


No Rest for the Wicked

by Nox_Wicked



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Blood and Violence, Deadlock Gang, Deadlock Jesse McCree, Friends to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Blackwatch Characters(s), Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Undercover Reyes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:18:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 85,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nox_Wicked/pseuds/Nox_Wicked
Summary: When Jesse McCree first lays eyes on Deadlock's new mechanic, he has no idea how drastically his life is about to change.A slow (SLOW) burn McReyes story set from Deadlock Days until the Recall.





	1. Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this two years ago, just before Moira was released. Obviously, canon has changed since then especially with the release of Ashe, so this is no longer as canon compliant as I had once hoped to make it. I keep putting off posting this to try making it perfect, but perfection is only going to lead to me never posting it at all. So here it is, and let's just have some fun on the ride.
> 
> Thank you so much to Alex, Mo-Mouse/Evi, and Winterwhite for beta reading for me, you're all amazing and I'm sorry this took so long to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: Violence, murder, off screen rape by a Deadlock member, and attempted sexual assault.

Of all the transports they could have used, they've got him in a bus.

No fancy aircraft, no armoured truck. Just a regular travel bus, the same kind Jesse had stowed away on all those years ago when he finally ran away from home. Even the terrible pattern on the blue seat covers seem familiar. Granted, he hadn't been handcuffed to the armrest back then. Minor details.

The two agents near the front of the bus keep their hands on their guns as they stare back at the rest of the coach. On his neck, Jesse can feel the eyes of the other two agents at the back. He's just relieved their boss isn't on this particular route. He doesn't think he's ready to deal with that kind of stress right now. Not yet.

There's a few others spread out in the passenger seats. Like Jesse, they've all been cuffed down for the ride. One of them is sleeping, or at least pretending to. Most are staring out the window at the passing desert.

“Cows,” A guy a few rows ahead of Jesse says out loud. Sure enough, when Jesse glances out the window he sees them pass a herd of cows standing around in a fenced area. The same thing happens again a couple minutes later, only with a rabbit. Then again with more cows. Soon enough the man's voice just becomes background noise to Jesse, a poor replacement for the lack of a radio.

“Makes you wish we get there sooner, huh?” A wiry blonde man in the seat across from him says.

Jesse shrugs. “Don't even know where exactly it is we're goin'. No rush.” If anyone else on the bus cares that they're talking, they give no mention of it. “Hell, could be the last time we see the outdoors, might as well enjoy it.”

The blonde man snorts, but smiles back Jesse's way. “Suppose that's true enough.” He looks Jesse over, scratching at the stubble on his chin with his free hand. “What'd they nail you for?”

Jesse frowns. He's never been to prison before. He's pretty sure he's overheard one of the guys back in the gorge say to keep what he can to himself if it ever happened. “Wrong gang, wrong time,” he answers, hoping it’s sufficient.

“Deadlock huh? Ain't you kind of young for that business?”

Right. His ink was out in the open. Stupid.

“I'm just advanced for my age is all,” Jesse says, slapping on a grin. The guy seems to find it funny enough.

“Arms deal gone wrong then?”

“You could say that.” Jesse turns back to the window as their entertainment for the ride announces yet another cow sighting.

The blonde man whistles in sympathy. “Damn. Must have been one hell of a botched deal if the Rebels didn't catch onto it. Inside job, you think?”

Jesse grits his teeth, focusing on a smudge on the tinted window. “Yeah. Probably.”

“Ouch. Rough luck, friend. Similar situation with me, y'know. I tell you, you can't trust no one these days, you say one wrong thing a couple pints in and suddenly you got all these assholes kicking down your door and confiscating everything in sight! Unreal's what it is!”

A guard near the back of the bus clears their throat, but the blonde man doesn't seem to care as he goes into detail about the raid on his own gang a few cities over. Jesse mostly tunes him out, only catching bits and pieces as he stares out at the bleak landscape.

He doesn’t bother telling him the inside job was mostly Jesse’s fault.

  
  


*

  
  


Jesse's shooting empty beer bottles off a rotten picnic table when he hears the signal to gather round the main building. Eight out of ten today, not bad. Not as good as usual, he thinks as he takes a moment to slip his pilfered six shooter back into its hiding spot. He's sure someone's heard him, but the meeting must be important because no one comes to try taking his gun away from him today.

The usual guys stand guard outside the front doors of the saloon when Jesse walks up. Normally they give him shit, tease him and make him wait outside, or force him to peek up into the windows if he wants to know what's going on. None of that today. They only grunt at him as he slips past, his thin frame easily sliding between several bodies crowding the entrance. Old country music plays from the speakers on the ceiling, though it's hard to hear over the loud hum of several conversations happening at once.

Jesse manages to find a spot in the corner by some of the prospects – younger brothers of senior members, all waiting for their shot to be officially welcomed into the gang. They don't look thrilled to have him in their midst, but they keep their grumbling to a minimum. They don’t have to wait long at least.

“Shut up, the lot of you!” A voice booms throughout the bar, silencing the room. Even the music cuts out.

At the foot of the stairs in the corner, Pa Deadlock himself draws every eye in the room. A few inches shy of six feet tall, the gang's patriarch makes up for his average height with a fierce, dominating presence and intense stare. Thick grey hair has been slicked back over his skull, and the moustache over his upper lip has been trimmed with precision. The tail end of a scorpion tattoo peeks out from the high collar of his shirt, black ink contrasting against weathered, tan skin.

Jesse's only ever spoken to the boss once, and that had been more than enough for him. He's pretty sure most of the gang feels the same way. Still, they all keep their mouths shut tightly as their leader looks them all over critically.

“As you all probably know, we have a big deal coming up here pretty soon. And I do mean big. The Sidewinders have finally got some sense knocked into their half-baked skulls, and come to understand that an ally is better than an enemy. Especially when that enemy is Deadlock.” A couple men in the back start to cheer, but one look from Pa shuts them up immediately.

“I don't got the time or patience for any bullshit on this. They can’t meet our gold standard for guns, an' we’ve been pissing cash away trying to outsell their quality of narcotics. We both lost too many good men to each other these past five years. This deal is a peace offering, y'all hear? And if it goes the way it should, we'll all be making a good cut more than we've ever seen before, a lot sooner than you think. So I don't wanna hear no bullshit about how you hate their fuckin’ guts. You wanna send one of 'em on a one way trip over the canyon that's fine, but if I hear about any of you acting on that before this deal goes down, you can guarantee that trip will be for two. Am I understood?”

A sound of acknowledgement echoes throughout the bar. No one bothers making another sound when Pa brings up more details of the agreement. Jesse tunes most of it out. A big deal like this, he won't even be brought to the site. This is meant for the big dogs, and as everyone likes to remind him, Jesse's just a runt.

The rest of the meeting is fairly straightforward after that at least; Make sure the cuts aren't light, watch the routes the clean cops are known to patrol for any signs of change, _and for fuck's sake clean the jizz off the seat in the outhouse when you're done_. A couple guys get elbowed in the side while others laugh, Jesse just rolls his eyes. Pa Deadlock seems to be about as entertained as he is judging by the unimpressed look on his face.

“Lastly,” he says as he motions to Sara behind the bar. She starts pouring his favourite whiskey as he looks back over the gang. “We all know what happened to Anson.” A couple members sadly make the sign of the cross over their chests. “Always a shame to lose one of our own, and especially one so good with the bikes. But that’s the life, and life goes on. There's a new guy in the shop now, goes by Varga. You need something stripped down or fixed up quick, check in with him. We've already vetted him, and this deal requires some damn fine working vehicles, so if word reaches me about some idiot pulling a hazing stunt and slowing down the work in there I'll be paying them a visit myself. Got it?”

All throughout the saloon they loudly answer “ _Yes Pa._ ”

“Good. Now get the fuck back to work. Cuts are due end of the week as always, don't be late.” He takes his glass of whiskey from Sara and throws it back down his throat. Once he’s finished, he slams the glass back down on the countertop and the noise in the room starts to rise again.

Jesse waits quietly in the corner as most of the men head back outside. The rest go towards the bar or up the stairs. He looks over the guys still inside and catches sight of a wide back and long, stringy blonde hair hanging under a stained grey bandana. Jesse’s breath hitches. He shifts uncomfortably.

Bishop.

By the looks of it, he hasn't noticed Jesse yet. Small favours, Jesse thinks, making sure to stay where he is until the man's focus is on the bartender. Quickly, he makes his exit.

The cool evening air is already settling in as Jesse takes a step outside. It's refreshing, especially after the stifling heat of being squeezed against the crowd in the bar. Eager to get a little distance from the saloon and it's current patrons, Jesse heads toward one of the bunk houses. He pulls a cigarette from the pack in his front breast pocket, pausing to light it. When he looks up, he sees a small group gathered near the main garage off to the right.

The faces Jesse recognizes are all chatting and laughing amongst themselves, but there’s one face he doesn’t know. The words “ _Tall, Dark, and Handsome_ ” immediately pop into Jesse's brain, a phrase the girls working the bar love to use for some of the more attractive members of Deadlock.

Closely cropped brunette curls and facial hair, a smooth dark complexion, thick muscles peeking from underneath a plain white wifebeater... Jesse nearly chokes on his cigarette at the sight. This must be the new guy Pa mentioned. The mechanic.

The man says something to one of the other guys, shrugs, then turns his head only to meet Jesse’s eyes. For a moment it seems like there's complete silence around him, and Jesse worries for a second that maybe he's about to get his ass beat for staring. No need. The man's lips curl into a smile aimed toward him, and then he's back to talking with the other guys.

Jesse hurries away to finish his cigarette in peace, and wonders when the gang will ever let him have a bike that needs fixing.

  
  


-

  
  


Nine out of ten. Better, Jesse thinks as he reloads the gun and admires the holes in the targets. He’d taken a chance and decided to practice in one of the makeshift outdoor ranges today.

“Oi. Runt.”

Jesse scowls. Nothing irritates him quite like the other low ranks talking down to him, Bobby especially. Still, Deadlock is strict about hierarchy. “Yeah?” he asks, turning to face his visitor.

“The guys down by the storehouse say they need someone to run errands for 'em. Figure you got time to waste bullets, you got the time to work.”

Jesse's eyes narrow. “And what, you got real important business yourself?”

Bobby just sneers at him. Jesse's not exactly an intimidating figure. “Matter of fact, I do. I'm helping out with the Sidewinder deal, gettin' everything sorted and moving cash for the guns we need for it. What important business are you doin', huh? Besides lettin’ a target go?” He gestures to the paper man Jesse had missed and smirks. “I’m sure the guys are real glad to have you. You even supposed to be carrying?”

Jesse clenches his jaw and starts walking away. He has to or he’ll say something stupid and lose his gun. Someday. Someday he'll be high enough to clock Bobby good in the face.

Until then, he resigns himself to errand boy and heads towards the storehouse.

It's not all bad, really. There's the usual bullshit – the light insults and jeers, a shove here and there, but he's dealt with worse. At least Bishop isn't there. The storehouse guys mostly have him running messages and packages today. Food and drinks to the lookout group near the canyon entrance, a nondescript box to the owner of the Panorama Diner, the weekly bribes for the dirty cops in town. The cops do their usual part in pretending to question him for 'suspicious activity', but the head waitress at the diner makes up for the experience by giving him a free plate of bacon and toast.

All in all, it's not terrible. By the time the sun hangs low after a day of running in and out of town he's only got one last errand to run. Jesse checks the list he'd scribbled down earlier to make sure he's got it right. A small box of specialty parts meant for Varga in the garage. _Handle with care._

He thinks of the handsome man he'd spotted last night and feels his cheeks warm up.

Good thing he'd saved this one for last. If he makes an ass of himself, at least he can hide somewhere without worry for the rest of the night.

The usual guys from the chop shop are hanging around when Jesse arrives with his package. They don't spare him more than a quick glance. Fine by him. He heads past them into one of the open doors to try and find his target.

Bent over a sleek black camaro, tinkering with something under the hood, Jesse finds the guy he's looking for. He remembers those muscles for sure.

None of the other shop guys seem to pay him much mind as he steps closer. He can just make out the oddly shaped skull tattoo on Varga's right arm when the man stands up straight and turns to look at him.

Jesse forgets to speak for a second. The man raises an eyebrow, but seems more amused than anything.

“Parts you needed. Here they are,” Jesse manages to spit out once he regains control of himself. He hands the box over to the man quickly.

Varga takes it, pulling a knife from his back pocket to cut past the packing tape and see what’s inside. He nods, satisfied and looks back to Jesse with a smile.

“Just what I needed. Thanks.”

“No problem.” The tips of Jesse's ears are burning.

Varga sets the package onto a nearby workbench, grabbing a rag to wipe the grease from his hands. “You're the kid I saw last night, aren't you? What's your name?”

“McCree. Jesse. Jesse McCree.”

A trip over the canyon, that's what he needs.

Varga doesn't tease him though, just smiles and sets the rag down. He extends his hand to Jesse. “Varga. Luis. Luis Varga,” he says, only slightly teasing him. His hand is warm and rough with callouses. Jesse almost forgets to let go. “You been with Deadlock long, Jesse?” he asks.

Jesse shrugs. “Few years.” Three to be exact, but who's counting?

“You the youngest around here then?”

Jesse scowls. He can't help it. “Reckon so, yeah. But I pull my weight as much as everybody else though, so if you think-”

Varga laughs as he holds up his hands and shakes his head. “I believe you, don't worry. I wasn't expecting to get these delivered until tomorrow, you did good. Just surprised to see a young face around here I suppose. Most of the guys who come in here look like they've been around the block a few times.”

“Ain’t any blocks around here,” Jesse says. “Just miles and miles of potholes.”

Varga laughs again. “That’s one way of putting it.” He looks back to the car he'd been tinkering with, and Jesse is struck by the urge to keep the conversation going. He likes the sound of the mechanic's voice, low and smooth.

“Your tattoo's pretty cool. What's the skull of?”

Varga pauses to look at Jesse before following his eyes to the picture on his upper arm. His lips twitch into a small smile. “Supposed to be like a barn owl. I took some... _creative liberties_ though.”

“You designed it yourself?” Jesse's impressed. Deadlock doesn't tend to draw many artistic members.

Varga shrugs, and for a brief second Jesse thinks he might almost be a little embarrassed. “Just something I do in my spare time.” His smile tightens. “I see you have some ink of your own.”

Jesse raises his left arm instinctively. Deadlock's brand is still new enough to be shiny and dark against the tan pigment of his skin. “Hurt like a motherfucker,” Jesse grumbles. “But it didn't get infected or nothing, so it worked out.”

“Good thing you got it somewhere that won't warp it too much while you grow,” Varga says. “Some of them can look like real shit later in life.”

“Yeah well, good thing our logo doesn’t suck.”

Varga huffs out a laugh. “Good thing.” He looks over Jesse’s tattoo again. “You’re part of them for life now.”

“I'll get some cooler ones after they let me go on some bigger runs.” Jesse says quickly. “All the guys got this one, but once I start climbing the ranks I’ll be able to get some that are way better.” He admires Varga’s own ink again, beautiful and intimidating. “Hey, maybe you can design something for me then? I mean, I know you're probably busy in here, but I'd pay you.” He'll figure out how later.

Varga hums, and looks back to his toolbox. “Maybe. We'll see.”

It's not a 'no' and it's not a 'get the fuck out of here, runt' so Jesse takes it as a victory. “Awesome!” He watches the muscles of Varga's back move under his shirt and makes the tough decision to quit while he's ahead. “Well I uh. I guess I’ll head out, let you get back to work.” He clears his throat, trying not to be too obvious. “But uh. If you ever need anything, let me know. I'm pretty fast at going in and out of town and around the gorge.”

At last, Varga gives him another genuine smile. “That so? Thanks, kid. I'll keep that in mind.”

Jesse thinks of that smile again before he falls asleep in his bunk that night. It's the best rest he's had in weeks.

  
  


-

  
  


After that first conversation with the mechanic, Jesse does his best to make himself as obviously visible and free whenever the other members decide they need something from the garage. He starts wearing a trail in the ground from how often he runs food and parts to Varga when he needs it. In return, he always gets a warm smile and a few moments of pleasant conversation. Unlike every other member of Deadlock, the new head mechanic doesn’t seem to live to insult him. Even after he hears his nickname, he only asks Jesse about it, never uses it himself.

“It's because I'm so scrawny,” Jesse admits a couple visits later. “Smallest guy here. I keep trying to get some muscle but it don’t stick at all.”

Varga shakes his head and reaches over to mess Jesse's hair. “You're no runt, kid. Little skinny for now, but give it time and you'll grow. You got a tall frame, it just takes a little longer to fill it out.”

Jesse's grateful his bangs are so long – hopefully they hide the redness of his cheeks. “Assumin' I live that long, that'd be mighty fine.”

Varga just grunts, pats his back and when he’s done for the night, sends him off with a can of soda from the cooler.

Jesse's still grinning ear to ear, thinking about sneaking off to his little hiding spot up the cliff to drink in peace when Bishop catches him. The grin drops quickly.

He doesn't say anything, just gives Jesse a familiar smirk as he takes hold of his arm. Pale blue eyes sear Jesse's skin everywhere they look. Long, stringy blonde hair hangs down in clumps, and by the smell of him it's safe to assume Bishop hasn't bathed in awhile.

Jesse probably makes a face, but it doesn't matter. He should be used to it by now. Steeling his nerves and resigning himself to his new job for the night, he quietly lets himself be pulled away to the bunkhouse Bishop stays in. It's a little nicer than Jesse's; private rooms, running water, locks on the doors. Perks of being high up in the Deadlock chain. That and absolute command over the grunts, prospects and of course, Jesse himself.

The door to Bishop's room closes and locks, and the smell doesn't get any better after that.

Jesse's grateful for the can of soda later in the evening. It coats his tongue and teeth with sugar and rots away the taste of everything else.

As he sips from the can, he stretches out, staring up at the stars from his little hiding place tucked away in the cliffs around the gorge. He wonders how long until he fills out the way Varga says he will.

Wonders how long until men like Bishop decide it won't be worth it to bother with him anymore.

  
  


-

  
  


“The guys seem pretty impressed with their bikes and trucks. You're doing way better work than the last guy y'know.”

Varga grins over his shoulder at Jesse, who's making himself useful by aiming a flashlight at the mechanical guts of Mendez's truck. “You think so, huh? I'm flattered.”

“Think you could ever teach me? I could help you out more if I knew what actually went on in here.”

Varga keeps his eyes on whatever it is he's twisting with a wrench. “We'll see. I don't think I'm much of a teacher, kid. Besides, it took me ages to be able to do this. You're a sharp one, you'd catch on quicker than me and put me out of a job.”

Jesse laughs, loud enough to echo in the nearly empty workshop. “Trust me, that ain't gonna happen. But if it did, I'd make sure to put in a good word to the next gang you wanna work for.”

“How generous of you.” Varga turns the wrench again, muscles in his arm bulging with the effort. It's a nice image that Jesse takes time to fully appreciate. “I imagine I'd get a bullet in the brain before Deadlock would want me working with the snakes though.”

Jesse shrugs. “Probably. Who knows after the big exchange though.”

“That's coming up soon, isn't it? Another month now?”

“Almost, yeah. Whenever that festival starts in the city. Heard some of the guys say they figure the cops'll be focusing the most attention there, so the deal's gonna go down the first night of the fireworks a good ways away.”

“Huh. Makes sense I guess. Pa say the location yet?”

Jesse tries his best to remember. “Well Pa doesn’t usually like to announce stuff like that early but I’d put my money on Morello’s farm out east of here. It’s about the halfway point between our home points. Plus I had to run a package to him in town a couple days ago. Felt like cash.” 

“It couldn’t be for anything else?”

“Old Man Morello? Nah. He stays out of our kind of business for the most part. But I heard a rumour his son’s in the hospital, so his bills must be sky high. Pa probably offered to pay if we got to use the property for the night.”

Varga pauses in his work. “That’d do it, yeah. They say what time?”

“Around three or four I think? Can’t really remember exactly, but I’m pretty sure that’s what they agreed on.”

Varga hums. He must have fixed whatever he needed, because he carefully pulls the wrench away and stands up. “You going along with them to the meeting point then?”

“Me? Nah.” Jesse turns off the flashlight. “I haven't been allowed on anything major in a long time. Hell, I'm not even supposed to have a gun.”

Varga turns to look Jesse over and leans against the truck with folded arms. “Oh? You piss the wrong person off or something?”

“Sort of.” He looks around the workshop. Marco had been the only other person with them earlier, but he'd stepped out around the same time Varga started using the wrench. “It's not-” Jesse scowls. “It's not important.”

Varga raises an eyebrow. He says nothing for a moment, and the awkward silence makes Jesse crack.

“I was around fifteen, almost sixteen I think? We were going to a drop point to do a trade off with some smaller gang that used to be around. It was me, one of the prospects and some vets. Everything was going good at first, but then the other guys tried to fuck us over and take it all.”

Jesse still remembers the mix of fear and adrenaline overwhelming him after the first bullet flew.

“We got separated in a shipping yard. Me and Bobby were together when a bunch of the other guys pinned us in a corner. We didn't have guns of our own, but I'd swiped one off of one of the vets that went down before we got split up. I...” Jesse pauses. His throat feels dry as nausea twists in his stomach. The backs of their heads had been disgusting, chunks of gore all over the pavement. “I...”

“You shot them,” Varga finishes for him. He says it gently, his voice bringing Jesse back to the present. Jesse nods, trying to breathe steady again.

“There was four of 'em. I got 'em all in the head.” He looks towards Varga's face and glares. “And I know how that sounds, and I know no one believes me, but I'm tellin' you I ain't a liar! It was me. I did that to 'em.” His voice wavers a little and he hates it. It makes him sounds so weak.

“The other guy - Bobby took the credit though,” Varga says, piecing the story together easily.

“I dropped the gun when I puked,” Jesse mutters, embarrassed. “He picked it up and that's when our guys found us. I tried to tell one of the others what happened, but Bobby was already riding pretty high and called me a liar. I didn't exactly make an impressive sight, keeled over on the ground covered in vomit and blood. They figured no idiot like me could even dream of shootin’ that good. Next thing I know, I'm on outhouse cleanup for a week, and knocked down to gang bitch status indefinitely.”

He can’t keep the bitterness out of his voice, but Varga doesn't comment on it. In fact, he doesn’t say anything for a good long while. Then at last he sighs and unfolds his arms.

“Come around the shop when I'm not too busy and I can probably show you a couple things.”

“Look, just ‘cause I told you that crap don’t mean I need some pity party.”

“And I ain't throwing one. But there's a better chance of you moving up the ranks if you know how to do more than just run errands and take the fall for the other guys. A patsy isn't a career choice to aspire to, trust me.” Varga frowns as he stares at Jesse. “You’re no idiot though, figure you know that already. Besides, you're in here half the time anyway and I could use the extra hands. Don't imagine the big guy would have any problems if I let him know you're easing my workload.”

Jesse stares long and hard at an oil stain on the floor, frowning. When he looks up, he turns his focus on Varga's deep brown eyes.

“And what's this gonna cost me in return?”

For a second Varga seems genuinely confused. When he clues in to what Jesse means, his eyes narrow and his jaw sets into a hard line. “Nothing. Especially not that.”

He says it in a stern tone that almost makes Jesse ashamed for asking. He’s grateful to hear it of course, who wouldn’t be? And yet an odd sense of disappointment seems to settle low in his stomach, at war with the relief. Fucked as it is, a small part of Jesse wonders about a different answer.

“Who's been asking you to do that shit?” Varga asks, eyes narrowing.

Jesse shrugs. “Don't matter. They don't need to ask. 'S how it is.”

“How old are you? Sixteen?”

Jesse scowls and crosses his arms over his narrow chest. “Almost eighteen, asshole.”

Varga looks like he's got something to say about that, then abruptly turns away to close the hood of the truck. It slams down louder than Jesse expects, making him jump a little.

“Many of them?” He asks, turning back to Jesse.

“I told you, it's not important. It's how it is. Not all of the guys here want the girls in the bar, and since they don’t let me out on big jobs I'm not good for much else except low grade legwork...” He trails off when he realizes just how pissed the mechanic looks.

Varga's mouth is stuck in an angry grimace. “Listen to me. You're a lot more than what they think you are, Jesse. Someday you'll realize that, and so will they.” He grabs a rag to wipe some grease from his hands. “In the meantime, if anyone starts with that...you come here, ok? Come see me and I'll make them go away, understand?”

Jesse nods, letting his eyes wander over the man’s blackened hands and thick muscles. He tries to imagine Varga wrapping those hands around Bishop's neck and squeezing. It's a nice image, almost as nice as the one Jesse's had of himself putting a bullet between Bishop's eyes. “I understand.”

“Good. I mean it, kid. I don't care what time it is, you come looking for me, I'll be there.”

Jesse nods again, unsure of what else to possibly say to that. The awkward silence stretches out a little too long before Varga finally sighs. His shoulders relax and he cracks his neck. “You want a smoke?”

“You really gotta ask?”

Varga motions for Jesse to follow him outside the garage. They burn their cigarettes down about halfway before Jesse starts talking about the food at the Panorama and slowly things go back to somewhat normal. For a little while at least.

  
  


-

  
  


Jesse's routine doesn't change much the weeks following his awkward conversation with Varga. He wakes up, practices shooting bottles and cans for as long as he can get away with, hides his gun, then reports to the senior guys in the saloon. Usually he's on cleanup duty for whatever area in the base the previous night of drinking had destroyed, followed by scouting runs for the street level members. Once a week he makes his usual trip to the lookout point, the corner with the cops, and the Panorama Diner.

After that he heads into the garage to help Deadlock's new head mechanic with anything he can. True to his word, Varga tries his best to teach him what he can about fixing and dismantling vehicles and bikes. None of it seems to stick very well though. Varga describes what he's doing well enough, but Jesse's brain has a hard time retaining the information. He’s a little busy watching beads of sweat trail down Varga’s collar and in between his pecs.

It's still worth every moment. Varga smiles and laughs loudly at Jesse's terrible jokes, tells his own back in return. He teaches Jesse a few spanish words and phrases when Jesse admits that he's nearly forgotten it all since his mama died. The only spanish his father had known was “dos” and “cervezas”, and the foster family had been strict about speaking English only. Everything else Jesse keeps to himself. Thankfully Varga doesn't pry.

He lets Jesse raid the cooler and shares his cigarettes when Jesse runs out. They joke and complain about the other Deadlock members, and Jesse savours the moments when the older man pats his back or shoulder when he says something especially clever.

It's the happiest he's been in years. Evenings spent with Varga make up for the ones when Bishop or his friends catch Jesse's wrist and pull him away for the night.

As the weeks go on it gets a little harder to spend more private time with him though. The closer to the night of the Sidewinder deal, the more wound up the Rebels get. Tempers are on edge and paranoia is definitely in a lot of men's eyes. Half of them are certain the other gang is going to turn on them the moment they arrive at the meeting point.

There's more bikes and cars in the garage with every visit Jesse makes. They all want to have the best, the fastest, the most armoured getaway ride. Jesse can't really blame them. He understands the paranoia a little. Seeing his fellow gang members fall to the ground with their brains blown out years ago hadn't exactly been a fond memory, and Jesse's almost grateful that he's not welcome on the journey out this time.

At least once it's all over there'll be a lot less pressure on Varga to work so much. Jesse will have a lot more chances to work alone with him and hear that smooth voice and laugh. Plus with most of the gang gone that night, it would probably be just the two of them alone for hours.

He counts down the days, more excited the closer time draws to the set date.

  
  


-

  
  


Hours before the agreed meeting time, as the sun is just dipping down over the horizon, a celebration starts up. It'll be tame compared to the one that's thrown once the deal's done, but the gang takes any opportunity it can get to get drunk and rowdy. The saloon is packed full, music blaring loud enough to make the ground shake.

Jesse peeks his head in just long enough to scan the room for familiar dark curls. He doesn't find who he's looking for, and slips back out easily. Varga must still be in the garage then. He should have guessed, Pa Deadlock was probably up his ass trying to make sure everything would run perfectly for the ride out. Most of the bikes and trucks are already good to go, parked in the surrounding lots for easy and quick access. The trucks loaded with guns for the exchange are sitting nice and pretty in another building near the garage, goods counted and ready to go.

All in all, it'll probably be a lot quieter in Varga's workshop, Jesse thinks. Not many people outside the bar. Plus, Varga had promised he'd show Jesse how to play a song or two on his guitar at some point. With everyone else about to head out soon, it would be the perfect opportunity to ask him about it. A way to relax and enjoy the mechanic’s new free time. Jesse had been looking forward to asking him all day.

His feet are moving before he can remember how he meant to bring the subject up. It's become almost muscle memory by now, the way to the garage. He can already see the lights in the shop windows, warm and welcoming, a comforting image of a pleasant, intimate night.

A strong grip clamps down on his shoulder hard enough to bruise and yanks Jesse back.

“There y'are,” A raspy voice slurs while Jesse tries to regain his balance. “Been lookin' for you, runt.”

Bishop's eyes are tinged red, and his breath smells foul as it blows in Jesse's face. The man sways a little on his feet, a clear sign that he's already several bottles into the celebration.

“C'mon. Gotta leave soon.” He starts pulling Jesse towards one of the tool sheds nearby, apparently not in the mood for the privacy of the bunkhouse rooms. “Could be a lot of men's last night on earth if the fuckin' snakes turn on us. Might as well make the most of it.”

Jesse frowns as Bishop pulls him, weakly protesting. “But I was- I was just on my way to tell Varga something for Pa...”

“Pa can tell ‘im himself. Varga’s goin’ along with him after all, they don’t need you.”

He laughs drunkenly, oblivious to the horror on Jesse’s face. His chest suddenly feels like it's twisting up into knots. Bishop is right, if the deal goes south there will be a lot of corpses by morning. And now Varga might be one of them. Varga, who smiles kindly at him and says he’s smart. Varga, who pats him on the shoulder without pushing him down to his knees. Varga, who’s the best thing to happen to Jesse in a long fucking time.

His body moves before his brain can catch up. With speed he didn't know he had, he twists out of Bishop's grip.

The man blinks in stunned silence for a moment, completely caught off guard by Jesse's resistance. His greasy, weathered face twists into a deep scowl. “Fuck you thinkin’, boy? Get over here.”

Jesse shakes his head. He takes a step backward as Bishop takes one toward him.

“I said get over here!”

“No.” Jesse's afraid to speak more than a word at a time. His hands are shaking, his voice will too. He hasn’t tried resisting since the first time Bishop and his friends found him over a year ago. He quickly glances at the workshop again. It's so close. So so close. If there's a chance it's Varga's last night alive, Jesse doesn't want to waste it being fucked bloody a few metres away in the toolshed for the rest of the night. Varga will know if he sees him later. After everything they’ve talked about Jesse won't be able to face him, not like that.

Bishop snarls and grabs for Jesse's arm. Jesse's quick enough to sidestep him, but not enough to dodge the man's other hand as it flies out toward his face. It strikes him hard in the temple and thick, dirty fingers twist into Jesse's hair, pulling hard. He can't help but cry out from the sharp pain as Bishop starts dragging him towards the shed.

“Little fucker, thought y'understood by now. You do what I say, when I say it! Know your fuckin’ place!”

“Let go asshole!” Jesse shouts, squeezing his eyes shut. He brings his hands up to the roots of his hair to try easing the pain while he's violently yanked forward.

Bishop only pulls harder, nearly knocking Jesse off his feet. “The others said I was goin' too easy on you, guess they was right. Gonna have to teach you a lesson in respect, runt. Hope you-”

A sickening crunch and a loud howl of pain cuts off the rest of Bishop's sentence. Jesse does fall to the ground this time as Bishop lets go of him. Instantly his hands move to his head, moving protectively over where the worst of the pain throbs.

“Wh-what the fuck man?! You know who-” the crunching sound returns, followed by another pained shriek from Bishop. Wincing, Jesse manages to look up from the ground to see what's happening.

Varga stands over Bishop with a long crowbar in his hands. It's hard to see his face in the dim light, but Jesse can see enough to tell that he looks...terrifying. His expression doesn't seem overly angry exactly, but from the way his dark eyes are drilling into Bishop, Jesse knows right away that he is very seriously thinking of shoving the crowbar through his skull.

“Fucking son of a bitch!” Bishop spits, curled up on the ground and clutching his ribs. “The fuck you pulling Varga?!”

“ _Stop talking_.”

Jesse's blood runs cold at the tone of Varga's voice. He's never heard it like that before. Bishop seems to be too drunk, or maybe he’s just too stupid to notice.

“You know what Pa'll say when he sees this? This fuckin' bullshit here?”

“Pa Deadlock isn't here. And trust me, no one will get here fast enough to save you.” Varga pushes the end of the crowbar against Bishop's throat, just under his adam's apple. “Right now it’s just you and me. Comprendé?”

At last Bishop seems to understand what Varga is telling him. No one can hear him over the ear splitting noise of the saloon's music. He stays blissfully silent as Varga looks over at Jesse. “You okay, kid?”

It feels like a spotlight has randomly shot down on him, blinding him and taking him off guard. All he can do is nod.

“He hurt you?”

“J-Jus' a little,” Jesse manages to reply quietly, forcing himself to pull his hands away from his head. The last thing he wants is for Varga to think he's weak. “I’m fine.”

Varga nods. His grip must ease up slightly, because Bishop opens his mouth and starts talking again.

“All this over _him_? Fuck, Varga he's nothing! Was just business as usual with him! Christ, ain’t you doin' the same shit? The way he keeps runnin' off to you almost every night...” An ugly laugh slips from Bishop's mouth as Varga’s eyes widen. Taking advantage of his surprise, Bishop sits up a little, still clutching his ribs. “Come on, you tellin’ me you ain’t done anythin' with him? Scrawny little liar like him, we only keep him around as a cum dump anywa-”

The next hit from the crowbar slams right between Bishop's legs. Jesse winces. He's sure the scream this time is louder than the music, but no one comes to check.

There are big ugly tears running down Bishop's face as he sobs in agony. He turns his head and dry heaves onto the ground, hands shaking violently as they frantically move to his crotch. His scraggly blonde beard is absolutely disgusting from the mess of vomit, tears, and dirt. Varga doesn't even twitch his nose as he squats down next to the man, leaning his head in.

“I'm gonna say this once, and only once so you better get it through that greasy fucking skull of yours. Are you paying attention?” He lightly slaps the back of his hand against Bishop’s wet cheek. Bishop nods, still hiccuping in pain.

“Good. When I stand back up you're going to drag yourself back to your bunk and lock yourself in there for the night. You're gonna stay there tomorrow because I don't want to see that ugly fucking mug of yours any time soon. If anyone asks why you're not going along to the deal, you tell them you're too busy shitting yourself sick. They won't miss you.”

Varga takes Bishop's jaw in his grip. “Still listening? Good, because here's the most important part.” He raises his other hand to point the crowbar at Jesse, never taking his eyes off of Bishop's. “You're not going to touch Jesse McCree again. You're not even going to look at him again. In fact, if you're ever in the same god damn room as him, your feet better start moving like you got the devil on your heels, because I will find you and I will rip you apart with my bare fucking hands. Do you understand me?”

Bishop nods, at least as much as he can while Varga's got a hold of him.

“Good. Now…” He throws Bishop's head down, rising to his feet as it hits the ground. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

Bishop coughs and groans in pain as he curls up into himself while Varga turns and steps toward Jesse.

It happens so fast, Jesse almost misses Bishop shakily reach into his vest once Varga’s back is turned. 

“No!” Jesse screams, scrambling to his feet. In a blur, he feels his boot connect with Bishop’s hand. He hears the gun fly back into the dirt, but doesn’t see it. He can’t look away from the downed gang member as he kicks into Bishop’s gut once. Then twice. The man wails pathetically. Five times. Ten.

“Jesse.”

Jesse loses count. He can’t stop. Soon he can’t see Bishop’s pained expression anymore, his eyes are too wet and blurry to keep track. He keeps kicking.

“Jesse, he’s done.”

Beneath him, covered in blood, vomit, and tears, Bishop sobs unintelligibly. Jesse kicks him one last time in the mess that was his groin. One last howl of pain. 

It doesn’t make up for it all, not even close, but he relishes it all the same.

Stumbling back, Jesse sniffles and slowly falls back onto the ground. A moment passes and then a familiar hand reaches out to him.

“Can you stand on your own?” Varga asks calmly.

Jesse nods and takes his hand, letting himself be pulled up and onto his feet. Despite his answer, Varga keeps a hand at Jesse's back as he guides him towards the workshop. Neither of them look back.

  
  


-

  
  


“Y'didn't have to do that,” Jesse mumbles after Varga sits him down on the workbench.

Varga ignores him and keeps the cool cloth pressed against Jesse's temple. “Hold this here. It'll keep the swelling down a little.”

Jesse does as he's told. He still can't meet the man's eyes. Neither of them say anything and the radio is left to fill the silence.

“I mean it. He'll start shit now. He's got a lot of friends around here.”

“So do I.”

There's something odd about the way Varga says it. Jesse doesn't bother dwelling on it too much though because Varga is suddenly offering him a glass with amber coloured liquid sitting at the bottom.

“Bourbon. From my personal stash.” 

Jesse blinks, eyes wide. Varga rarely offers him alcohol, it's always the other guys giving it to him, or the girls behind the bar sneaking him drinks when he flirts with them. His surprise must be obvious because Varga finally cracks a smile. It doesn’t last long before Varga drops it and glances toward the window. “How long's he been doing that to you?”

Jesse's own smile weakens. He shrugs.

“Does it matter? He was right, it's how it is here. Not like he's the only one, he just makes use more often than others.” His fingers tap erratically against the glass in his hands. “Hell, after my fuck up with Bobby and that gang shootout, I was lucky they didn't just push me into the gorge. And the Doc gives me that shot every week along with the bar girls to make sure no one catches nothin' so it's not like I'll die from it...fuck, I'm lucky I got something that makes me worthwhile to keep around! If I didn't I'd probably already be dead some way or another so-” his voice cracks and he pauses to swallow the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “So. Fuck off, I don't need you feelin' sorry for me! I didn't ask for that!”

Varga doesn't say a word. It only makes Jesse angrier.

“They'll find out what happened y'know! And when they do I'm the one they're gonna take it out on!”

“Jesse.”

“I've seen what they've done to other guys who pissed them off, I know what they do! Trust me it ain't pretty! Not to mention-”

“Jesse!” Varga hisses, gripping Jesse's shoulders tight as he moves close. “Listen to me! No one here is going to hurt you again!” He shakes him a little, and the sheer strength in Varga's arms rattles Jesse down to the bones. “Do you hear me? Never again!”

Jesse bites his lip. “How the hell can you know that?”

Varga's grip eases, though he doesn't let go. “You'll just have to trust me I suppose.”

They say nothing as the song on the radio ends and switches over to something slower.

Jesse's breath comes out shaky. It takes a few minutes to collect himself but... “Sure. Okay. I trust you.”

Varga's eyes seem to soften a little and he nods. “Good.” He lets go of Jesse's shoulders. “You hungry? Might have something in the cooler if you are.”

“I'm fine.” He brings his drink up to his lips and instantly makes a face as it goes down.

Varga laughs, but there's no malice in it. Stubbornly, Jesse takes another sip, prepared for the taste this time.

“It grows on you,” Varga says, grabbing a drink for himself and sitting down on the workbench beside Jesse. “It's funny, I never was much of a drinker but I don't mind bourbon.” He takes a sip from his glass. “That and those fruity slush drinks. Don't tell anyone.”

Jesse can't help but laugh. “Really? Big tough guy like you, weak for Piña Coladas?”

“And getting caught in the rain.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.” Varga shakes his head.

  
  


-

  
  


An hour later, the throbbing in Jesse's head is practically nonexistent after he's had a couple more drinks. The room isn't quite swaying yet, but Jesse is definitely feeling a little bolder than he did when they came in. He’d leaned his thigh against Varga’s ten minutes ago and neither of them have moved since. He can't remember what glass Varga is on, if he's been keeping up or drinking more than Jesse.

“They're gonna leave soon,” he mumbles when he catches Varga looking at the clock on the wall. “You still going with them?”

Varga nods. “I'll be sitting in Pa's getaway truck for it, most likely. Things go south, he's gonna want someone to fix his ride fast as possible. That or he'll need a meat shield.”

It's meant to be a joke but Jesse doesn't laugh.

“Do you have to go?”

“Afraid so.” He smiles, but Jesse can tell it's not sincere. “Don't worry about it. This time tomorrow, everything will be over.”

He looks down into his glass. Neither he or Jesse say anything. Over the radio, a woman sings about being crazy for trying.

“What if...” Jesse says, pausing to wet his lips. “What if you stayed instead?” He turns and meets Varga's dark brown eyes. “With me I mean.”

If he knows what Jesse’s talking about, Varga's face gives nothing away. Jesse swallows. In his chest, his heart is pounding faster than he can ever remember. Maybe it’s the booze, or maybe leftover adrenaline from the fight.

He inches forward.

“Just for the night,” he whispers. His hand shakes until he puts it over Varga's. “They'd understand.”

He swallows, refusing to move his gaze away from those deep brown eyes. “Just. Just stay.” He leans up.

Varga turns his head away at the last second. Jesse's lips don't even manage to touch his cheek.

“It's getting late,” he says gently. “Big day tomorrow.” He slowly shifts away from Jesse, moving his leg. “You should see about maybe sneaking out to town for the night. Maybe a few days. Be safer for you.”

It takes him a moment to process the rejection but when he does, Jesse sets his glass down on the work bench and stands up. His ears burn with the humiliation. He can read between the lines. Suddenly he feels a hell of a lot more sober. The lady on the radio mocks him as he starts moving toward the door.

“Jesse.”

He pauses, but doesn't dare look back over his shoulder. All the bravery he'd managed to muster earlier had escaped around the same time Varga turned away from him. His eyes are getting itchy and wet. Still, he's weak to the man's voice.

“I'm serious. Hide in town for a few days. You don't want to be here when we come back.”

It almost sounds like a threat, even though the tone is all wrong. Whatever. He's heard enough.

He walks out the door and only once he knows he's under the cover of darkness does he start running. He doesn't go back to his room, and despite Varga's warning Jesse doesn't go on the road towards town either. Instead he makes a left and runs up a little trail behind some rocks, clambering up a few ledges in the cliffside until he reaches the tiny alcove overlooking the gorge. His hiding place.

The blankets he's pilfered ages ago are still in an old crate he'd brought up, along with a flashlight, some cheap lighters, and the stolen six shooter he's been practicing so diligently with. Jesse pulls out the blankets and lays them out on the ground under an overhanging rock. He doesn't usually sleep all night out here, not after the time he woke up and saw a tarantula a couple feet from his face, but he doesn't want to see anyone right now.

He doesn't even realize he's still crying until he's on his back and staring up at the waning moon miserably.

“You idiot,” he whispers to himself before closing his eyes.

  
  


-

  
  


For a minute after Jesse opens his eyes, he thinks he might still be dreaming. The early morning sun shines bright as it creeps up over the horizon, pretty as a picture while birds sing and caw loudly. He yawns and closes his eyes again once he realizes he’s not dreaming. Maybe he’ll catch a few more minutes of sleep, no one will miss him. 

Just as he’s about to drift off again, he realizes the birds aren’t actually cawing. No bird could make those noises. Those are screams and shouts and _gunfire._

He's on his feet instantly. Keeping his head low, Jesse peeks over the edge of the cliff to see if he can make sense of what's happening. It's no good though, he's too far from Deadlock's base to see the action.

He grabs his gun and some extra bullets, double checks to make sure it's loaded, and starts the climb down toward where the noise is loudest.

Jesse manages to sneak himself down to where one of the back trails that heads into town meets another that takes him straight towards the base. A few large rocks work as hideout spots for backup when Deadlock has visitors they don't trust, and Jesse's confident no one on the lower ground can see him.

He stays low as he peers over the rock. This time he's got a perfect view of the carnage below and the sight almost makes him throw up.

Bodies everywhere. Mostly Deadlock. There's a few dressed in all black tac gear slumped over with their faces smashed in, or lying in a pool of blood. Jesse doesn't care about them though. His eyes are too busy jumping from vest to bloody vest, trying to recognize who's been killed. Mostly it seems like the barflies and patrol men, but Jesse can't be entirely sure.

He catches a glimpse of a few Deadlock guys dashing into one of the storehouses nearby. Jesse remembers their names just as more shots echo from the same building. Instinctively, Jesse ducks his head. When he looks up again he sees two people in the black gear step outside. One of them raises a hand to their ear.

“Three down in storehouse four,” A woman's voice says from beneath a black mask. “Area clear. Moving on to sector two.” They start walking away, keeping close to the walls of the buildings. As they pass beneath Jesse's hiding spot, he holds his breath, terrified that one of them will look up.

He stays quiet enough. They pass without seeing him. After they've disappeared from his sight, Jesse releases the shaking gasp he's held in since he saw them. Cops. Not even cops, Overwatch maybe?

Keeping curled up and hidden behind the rock, Jesse does his best to gather his thoughts and calm down. _Breathe. Just Breathe. Think! What's happened here?_ He asks himself, trying to focus on one thing at a time.

The Sidewinder deal. It had to have gone south. They must have had a mole, or double crossed Deadlock or something. Somehow, someone on the wrong side caught wind of their trade and decided enough was enough.

 _Christ_ , Jesse spits. _Fucking peachy_. By the looks of things below, their new guests don't exactly seem like the talk it out kind of people. If they find Jesse, he'll probably have a bullet in his brain before he can even see the gun that shoots him.

He clutches his own six shooter close, doing his best to swallow down his panic. He closes his eyes for a moment. A way out, there has to be a way out.

_Could just save 'em the trouble and take care of it yourself._

He opens his eyes. He takes one look at his gun and puts the thought out of his mind. No. Not that way.

He sits up to get another look around. The trail to town is just behind him. If he's careful, he could use it to sneak away. Maybe ask the waitress at the diner to hide him. Or if they've got her too maybe he could shack up with someone at the motel for a few days. He's seen the old creeps who stare at him when he walks past sometimes. Easy marks if he puts out.

He stares at the trail for longer than he should. Escape, it's right there. He just needs to move.

Sweat trickles down the back of his neck. In the distance he hears more shots as his fellow gang members die and cry out for their friends.

He thinks back to when he first came to the gang. Sitting across from Pa Deadlock for the first and only time while the man stared long and hard at him. His sharp nod of approval when he decided Jesse could stay, and the immense relief he’d felt at the time. 

Suddenly memories start swarming his brain and he can't stop them. He thinks of times in the kitchens when Saul would give him some extra beans if Jesse could make him laugh. Of Sara and Ashley behind the bar sneaking him drinks and telling him dirty jokes while they pinched his cheek. Of Richie and Paolo thanking Jesse for bringing them their food for the week when they were on lookout duty.

He thinks of Varga in the garage, ruffling Jesse's hair and smiling at him while he called him by his name.

It wasn’t all bad. Not like back home with his dad or with the foster family. He had a place in Deadlock, no matter how small.

He makes his decision and stands up.

  
  


-

  
  


Two hours later, Jesse's stuck on the roof of the saloon with only one bullet left in his gun. The sun beats down cruelly on him, burning the skin on his arms and neck. There's no shade on the roof to hide in, and he knows the people in black have caught on to where he is. They haven't made a move yet though. He hasn't let them. He's lost count of how many heads he's aimed at since waking up that morning. How many lives he's ended in his attempt at one final stand. After the first few, he stopped feeling like he’s going to vomit at least. This time he knows it’s them or him. 

The people in black have been a lot more careful about being seen in the past hour, that's for sure. Jesse's held them off as best he can, but once they realize he's out of bullets he knows he's a goner. The saloon’s two floors high thankfully, so he has a decent line of sight and height advantage. Meanwhile the sun continues to beat down on him, cheerfully lighting up every possible escape route as brightly as it can for his enemies.

His last bullet taunts him more and more with every passing moment. Doing his best to ignore it, Jesse turns on his side to take another look below just as a loud crack pierces the air. As his hands instinctively move up to protect his face, wood from the raised edge of the roof splinters and flies everywhere. Where Jesse’s head had been two seconds earlier is now a newly formed hole.

Sniper.

Jesse doesn't give himself time to think or panic, he rolls to the side and throws himself over the edge of the roof, clutching on by his fingertips before bracing himself for a drop down to one of the balconies below. It knocks the breath out of him for a second, but already he can hear heavy boots thumping up the stairs inside.

Desperately he tries the same trick again, hoisting himself over the railing of the balcony and only taking a second to prepare himself for the drop.

This time Jesse falls on his leg awkwardly as he lands. A short yelp of pain slips out, but he can't waste time. Forcing himself to move through it, he gets to his feet and starts running as fast as he can, despite the new limp in his step. It's not fast enough, he knows it's not fast enough, but he can't stop.

He's not even sure where he's running to. It doesn't matter. He doesn't reach it before what feels like a semi-truck slams into him from his left, pinning Jesse down to the ground in an instant. He grasps for his gun at his waist but it’s not there. Sobbing, he realizes that in his panic he must have left it back up on the roof.

With no other options left, Jesse swears, twisting around like a rabid dog under his assailant's grip in a last ditch effort to get free. He won't let them have the satisfaction of making him an easy kill at least. He just hopes the sun dries his tears fast once he's dead.

“God fucking damn it, kid,” A smooth, low voice snarls above him. Jesse freezes. 

“God _fucking damn it_ I told you. I told you to leave. I warned you.”

Slowly, he turns his head.

“V...Varga?” he whispers.

Above him, Varga meets his eyes, unsmiling. Instead of his usual work wear, he's dressed in black tactical gear and armour. 

“Commander Reyes, do you require assistance?” Someone shouts. Jesse doesn't understand. Not until Varga shouts back, still keeping his full attention on Jesse.

“Target apprehended,” he replies loud and clear. “Lower your weapons.”

Him. It was him. Jesse's mouth opens but no words come out. _It was him._

Varga. No, not Varga. That name is a lie, he realizes, piecing it together as he’s manhandled onto his stomach. It was all a lie. Everything Jesse knows about him, every joke, every memory, every word he’s ever heard from the man is a fucking lie.

He's still trying to make his voice work and make sense of it all as the stranger above him twists his hands back and locks thick metal braces over his wrists.

“Jesse McCree,” the man says without a hint of emotion “you’re under arrest.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Oh Sinners, Let's Go Down, Down to the Valley to Pray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse starts a new, physically exhausting chapter in his life with Commander Reyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: mentions of murder and past violence
> 
> (Thank you to Alex and Mo-Mouse/Evi for beta reading this chapter eons ago! Also, Wednesdays will now be update days in case anyone was wondering)

They throw Jesse into an armoured truck after he's been cuffed. Walk him past the puddles of blood and corpses of men he's known for years, put a blinding visor on him, and ship him off to some interrogation room where he's forced to wait alone for hours cuffed to a table until someone comes to talk to him.

When they do, it's the lying son of a bitch himself.

“Commander Gabriel Reyes of Blackwatch,” he says, re-introducing himself as he walks in and sits down across from Jesse. There are scars over his face now, a lot more than the few Jesse had noticed in their previous time together. He must have been wearing some heavy duty makeup to have fooled everyone. On top of Reyes’ head is a black, knit beanie that hides his dark curls from sight.

Jesse spits on the table and glares as hard as he can. The man only raises an eyebrow.

“That really the way you want to go right now? With all the charges you're facing?”

“Fuck. _You_.”

Reyes hums and pulls out a sheet of paper from a folder he'd brought. “Let's see. Conspiracy to the traffic and sale of unlicensed weapons and illegal narcotics. Bribery of several federal officers. Larceny. Breaking and entering.” He pauses to look Jesse in the eye. “The murder of four Blackwatch field agents and severe injury to several others..”

Jesse meets his stare head on. “They were gonna kill me jus' like they killed everyone else. Should I have let 'em?”

“You'll notice you're still breathing right now.” 

“No thanks to your fucking goons in black. Pretty sure that sniper wasn’t aiming to injure,” Jesse snaps. 

Reyes doesn’t seem rattled. “No, he wouldn’t have been. You shot and killed his best friend when you were on that roof.” He sets the file on the table. “Before this incident, the charges against you probably could have been lessened considering your age. Murder though… I don’t think the judge will give you much leniency there, especially since you’re almost an adult.”

Jesse clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to give the asshole the satisfaction of seeing how scared the thought of being locked up forever is. Besides, he knows what they'd use him for in prison. A quick fuck and a punching bag. Again.

“Into the jailhouse then? A roof and three square meals a day? Could be worse,” he says. He can't help himself.

Reyes only stares at him. Jesse tries not to fidget in his seat.

“I have another option for you.”

Jesse watches carefully as Reyes straightens up and folds his arms. “A second chance.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means that thanks to you, Blackwatch needs some new field operatives. I can't replace them with some boring, regulation soldiers. My agents are the best of the best. I know it because I choose them myself.” He unfolds his arms. “And you managed to shoot four of them in the head. That's not dumb luck, Jesse. That's an asset I need on my side.”

“You… what, you want me to work for you?” Jesse asks, stunned. “After everything you’ve done? Seriously?” Anger quickly takes hold. It almost seems like his vision is getting redder and redder by the second. “You lied to me about everything! You used me to get information, killed my gang and ruined my life!”

“Wasn't much of a life to ruin,” Reyes says bluntly. 

Jesse knows it’s pointless with the cuffs, but he tries to lunge at him anyway. Reyes doesn’t even blink.

“They didn’t want you carrying a gun. They didn't want you part of their big operations. They didn't care that you were getting raped on a regular basis. Do you honestly believe your future would have been a bright one if nothing had happened?”

“Fuck you! It might’ve been!” Jesse’s voice cracks as he says it.

“And how long do you think you would have lasted if it wasn't?”

Jesse looks at the floor. His greasy bangs fall over his face as he squeezes his eyes shut. The red dims. 

“See? You know. You're a smart kid, Jesse. Smarter than people give you credit for.” He hates how Reyes’ words make his chest feel. “And you're loyal. To a fault in this case. You could have cut and run, tried to make it on your own, but instead you chose to stay and be loyal to a group of men that wouldn't have thought twice about throwing you to the wolves if it meant saving themselves. They didn’t deserve you, Jesse.”

Reyes’ voice softens slightly. It's a familiar tone that reminds Jesse of a warm and dimly lit workshop. “You don't belong in prison or dead with the rest of them. You belong somewhere better. I want to help you get there, but you need to work with me.” He rises from his seat and holds a small key up. They can only be for the handcuffs.

“Will you do it?”

Carefully, Jesse tilts his head back up to face Reyes and quietly lets out a breath he didn't know he's been holding.

What choice does he have, really?

“What’s ‘ _somewhere better_ ’ then?”

  
  


\--

  
  


The bus has been driving all through the night. They only stopped once to switch drivers and then they'd been on their way again. Every so often an agent escorts one of the passengers to the bathroom in the back. His fingers and lungs itch for his cigarettes but they’d confiscated his pack and lighter when they arrested him. There's AC at least, which Jesse is grateful for. Outside, the sun beats down relentlessly on the desert ground. He has no idea where they are, which is probably the point.

The blonde man in the seat across the aisle from him introduces himself as Harris. He hasn't stopped talking since they first spoke, but Jesse doesn't mind. Harris is just in the middle of a story about an ex girlfriend and a keyed up car when someone shouts from the front.

“The fuck...I think we’re there! Guys, I think we’re finally there!” Immediately everyone leans over to get a better look out the windows.

Sure enough, in the distance they see a cluster of buildings. As the bus moves closer, a massive barbwire fence appears as well, surrounding whatever sort of compound they're going to. Towers are set up every few hundred feet, and Jesse can make out the shapes and movements of both omnics and armed humans at the top of them.

He swallows as they drive on and pass through under a giant, sturdy gate. More armed agents and omnics wave them in. 

“Thought the point of this was us not going to prison,” Harris mutters. “Sure looks prisonlike to me.”

Jesse doesn’t answer, too busy looking around. All around the vast yards inside the fence people in black are training while others look on and watch, blowing whistles and shouting at them. Jesse sees a running track further down, and what might be some kind of obstacle course beyond that. They pass a giant hangar with massive doors among several other buildings. Jesse figures it must be where the larger military vehicles are kept.

More than a few agents stop what they're doing to stare as the bus rides through the compound, but no one follows them. At last, the vehicle slows and stops in front of a nondescript building that Jesse thinks might be the centre of the compound. 

The agents near the front of the bus rise. “Welcome to the Blackwatch Training Facility. A few words of warning to you all before you all disembark,” the female agent nearest to the driver says. “Firstly, you will all be uncuffed one by one and escorted inside where Commander Reyes and several other Blackwatch agents will take you from there.” Jesse’s head perks up. Reyes was here? “Second, if you try to run when we uncuff you, you will be shot. Third, if you try to run when you are outside, you will be shot. And finally, if you show any signs of aggression to the agents in this facility before completing your orientation, you will be shot. Anyone not understand?”

No one says a word.

“That's what I like to hear.” She points to one of the passengers closest to her. “You first.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jesse’s massaging his wrist as he's walked across the pavement and into the building. The agent with him escorts him into an elevator and they descend down into a basement. He's lead across another hallway and reunites with the other bus passengers in a big white room. They're standing in a line facing the opposite wall. Staring back at them is Commander Reyes.

He only spares Jesse a casual once over before moving on to Harris. Jesse tries not to feel disappointed and looks at the lineup he’s in. 

There's six of them in total, all from the bus. He can’t help but frown when he realizes he's obviously the youngest of the group again. The others are silently sizing each other up as well until Reyes steps forward and grabs their attention. 

“I see none of you tried to run. That's good, hopefully it means you're all a lot smarter than you've been up until this point.” He lifts his arms to gesture around them. “Welcome to the start of your new lives. This is S Base, one of Blackwatch’s best training facilities in North America, and your new home until I decide you’re ready to be promoted to official mission runs.” He lowers his arms and looks over them all again.

“I’m Commander Reyes. Blackwatch is my division, and my responsibility. We specialize in some of the most difficult, dangerous missions on the planet, and unlike our friends in Overwatch, we receive none of the credit or glory. That doesn’t matter. To be one of my agents, you can’t want the fame and praise. My agents know that the good of the world is more important than any thanks or holovid interview. And to do that, they need to have the stomach and nerve to get their hands dirty now and then.”

Jesse’s fingers twitch as he remembers all the corpses littering the Deadlock base.

“Now I know you've all been dealt a shit hand in your lives. Truly unfair circumstances. But you’ve been working with what you have, and all of you have shown incredible skill and potential. So I want to give you one more try. One more chance to reshuffle the deck and play with something better. A way to make up for the mistakes of your past and move forward doing some good in the world.” He frowns.

“Don't misunderstand me though. This is not a free pass. My Blackwatch agents are the best of the best for a reason. We are not Overwatch. We’re the ones Overwatch calls in when they can’t handle what needs to be done. You will be pushed to your limits and then some. You will be constantly tired and sore from the training you'll have to endure. You will have to do work you don't want to, and if you bitch about it, you'll have to do it twice. When me and your other superiors tell you to do something, you do it without question. You will run like damn clockwork on the schedule I give you, and god help you if you try skipping even one session or break curfew.”

Reyes steps forward again, walking down along the small line up. “But as I remind you, this is all a choice. And this is the last chance to make it. Once you’re in, there’s no going back. So if any of you have decided you're not up to this, now is the time to step forward.” He stops at the end of the line, looking back at them all. “Anyone thinking they'd rather choose prison?”

No one moves. Reyes nods. “Good. For what it's worth, I wish you all the best. All of you show immense promise in your abilities and I want you to succeed here. I wouldn't have given you this opportunity if I didn't.” He snaps his fingers and motions to someone behind them. Two agents come forward, one holding a briefcase. The second agent opens it, revealing six thick black bands.

“Until you are promoted to full fledged Blackwatch agents, consider yourselves on probation. These are tracking devices that let us know your exact location and what each of your vitals are at all times,” Reyes explains as the two agents go down the line and attach the bands to each new recruit’s left wrist. “These trackers are not your run of the mill house arrest accessories. They will not come off unless I myself give the proper command to do so.”

As he speaks, Jesse watches in horror and fascination as his own black band seems to melt into itself and tighten against his wrist. A little green light blinks steadily in the centre of it. Other than that, there's no other decoration or buttons that Jesse can see.

“Those trackers were built by some of the most brilliant minds in the world. I strongly advise you don't try taking them off or breaking them. I _very_ strongly advise you don't try running away from the base or enter any restricted areas.”

“What, they gonna explode or something?” Harris jokes.

Reyes raises an eyebrow at him.

“They. They're not gonna explode...right?”

“You'll be given uniforms and assigned rooms next,” Reyes says. Harris makes a distressed noise. “Lieutenant Parish will give you a tour of where you're allowed to go on the base after that. You'll all need to report to the medical wing as well to get your files updated. Lights out is twenty two hundred hours. Do not be out of your quarters after that.”

He nods to the tall agent to his right. “I’ll let you take it from here.” And just like that, Reyes leaves them. He doesn’t spare anyone a second glance on his way out. Jesse tries not to care.

Lieutenant Parish calls them up one by one to get a bundle of black clothes off a table nearby. He gives them each a number on the way back with orders to memorize it if they want to know where they're sleeping. After that he leads them throughout the base with a few other agents, pointing out the mess hall, the locker rooms, the barracks, and finally the medical wing. 

“Last stop. Line up here until the medical officers inside call you in. Do what they say until they give you permission to leave. Tonight you're free to wander the base as long as you don't go anywhere restricted and report back to the barracks before lights out. The mess hall closes an hour before then, so if you're hungry eat beforehand.” Parish nods at them all. “If you have any further questions, me or any of the other senior agents will be able to help. Wake up call is 05:00, meet in front of track three by 05:20. Good luck.”

He leaves them standing in the hall outside the med wing. Not for the first time Jesse wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

“Jesus this place is intense,” Harris mumbles beside him. “Maybe I should have just stuck it out in prison, I think the rules would probably be pretty damn similar,”

“Well orange ain’t really my colour,” Jesse replies, “might as well try this out.”

Thankfully Jesse only has to wait for about five minutes before his name is called. He takes a deep breath before walking in. He's never liked doctors.

The medic treating him is a little gentler than Deadlock’s resident doctor had been at least. He apologizes whenever Jesse winces from the needles he gives him, and only chastises him a little for his smoking habit. When he’s finally done examining every inch of Jesse he smiles and gives him the all clear to head out.

Despite the man’s friendliness, Jesse hopes he doesn’t have to visit him again soon.

He heads to the barracks, eager to drop off his clothes and get changed. He’s still wearing the clothes they'd arrested him in, and besides the smell he doesn't imagine the Deadlock look is doing him any favours with the veteran agents around.

Jesse’s new room is… bigger than he expected. Way bigger than the half room he’d had to share back with Deadlock. He still doesn’t have his own bathroom but the bed looks like it might actually fit his lanky frame, there’s a desk and chair, and a small dresser for his clothes. There’s no lock on the door which he has mixed feelings about, but Jesse gets it. They are under probation after all. 

He scowls at the black band on his wrist. The little green light blinks back in a steady beat. 

Jesse does his best to ignore it and quickly strips out of his clothes. It’s only once he’s down to his boxers that he realizes how dirty he really is. Then again going from sleeping in the desert to a few days in a holding cell followed by a long, sweaty bus ride probably hasn’t done him any favours. 

He remembers Parish pointing out the locker rooms and mentioning the showers. He might as well go for it, tempting as it is to see how dirty he could get before Reyes said something. 

Not that Jesse cares what Reyes thinks. Mostly.

Despite being dirty, he pulls on a set of his new clothes and immediately feels a little better. The rather plain and boring t shirt and sweatpants are probably the most comfortable things he’s worn in ages, and it makes the overall shittiness of his situation a little more bearable.

Jesse leaves his old clothes in a pile on the floor and heads out into the hall. If memory serves him right, the showers should be on the main floor down the hall, past the locker rooms. 

He’s somewhat surprised to see a couple of the other guys from the bus already there, Harris being one of them. The blonde man waves when Jesse enters the room and points to a rack on the left. “Hey McCree! Shampoo and soap over there, towels on the other side. Fancy place or what?”

“What shithole you been living in to think this is fancy?” The other guy snorts as he adjusts the tap on the wall.

“Hey man, I had my doubts but any place with running water and no bugs in the mattresses might as well be the fuckin’ Hilton in my book.” 

“It’s just a slightly nicer version of prison.”

“So? I like nicer versions of things! You ever met someone who wouldn’t choose the nicer version of something if they had the option? No you haven’t, that’s what I thought!”

Jesse tunes out the rest of their conversation as he grabs a couple bottles from the shelf and a towel. The showers are all open style, but after living with Deadlock he’s used to some blatant male nudity. He keeps his eyes to himself and focuses on getting as clean as possible. If Reyes turns out to be like the drill sergeant assholes in the movies, Jesse doesn’t want to give him any ammunition to mock him. If the man comes anywhere close, he’ll just have to be surprised at how good Jesse smells is all.

“Wanna head to the mess hall after this, McCree? I don’t know about you but I’m pretty fuckin’ hungry,” Harris asks, nearly making Jesse jump when he takes up the stall beside him. He jerks his thumb towards the dark skinned man another stall over. “Ross is coming too.” 

Ross rolls his eyes while Harris grins.

“Uh, yeah.” Jesse wipes some soap out of his eyes. “Yeah I could eat.” 

It’s not like he has anything better to do. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Everyone must have been hungry from the ride, because all six of them end up trickling in and sitting at one of the tables in the mess hall. There’s still an hour or so left before it closes, so they take their time eating and making casual conversation while looking each other over. 

Besides Harris and Ross, Jesse also meets Vickers, Porter, and Gallo, all of whom start ribbing him immediately for being so young. 

“No wonder Deadlock got busted if they’ve been recruiting from freaking kindergarten,” Gallo laughs between bites of her meal. “Jesus, did you have a Crayola brand switchblade?”

“Shuddup,” Jesse mumbles. “It was a normal one.” It wasn’t. It was a nonexistent one. 

“Aww, babyface. Don’t worry, it’s cute.”

Jesse scowls and stabs his fork into the potatoes on his plate for lack of a better outlet. Thankfully Harris takes the reins of the conversation yet again. 

“So what’d Reyes want with you lot? I know he said he wanted me for my good looks, but I can’t see Vickers here getting that same deal, y’know?”

The big bald man across from him laughs. “You’d be surprised.” He shakes his head and smiles. “I was picked because I know how to make a good bomb out of just about anything. And I might have broken a neck or two with one hand.”

Vickers cracks his knuckles to reinforce the idea. Jesse fights the urge to raise a hand to his own neck while the others laugh.

After hearing from Vickers the rest go around one by one: Porter almost managed to escape a surprise raid by tricking multiple agents into moving into rough terrain and friendly fire. Harris made off with important files and documents that implicated his gang from a police station without anyone noticing. Gallo escaped capture from Blackwatch repeatedly by blending in quickly and easily with multiple different crowds. Ross hacked into several Overwatch agents bank accounts and government files, and only got caught when he tried hacking into the Commander’s himself.

“What about you McCree? Why’d the man in charge offer you this gig?” Ross asks, having just finished his own story.

Jesse’s smile from listening to all the great stories dims a little. “Oh. Uh. It’s not real impressive.” He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Not nearly as cool as trying to rob Reyes blind or getting his agents to fall into a sewer pond.”

“Gotta be something good enough to make him want you here,” Porter says, smiling as she sips from her coffee mug. “Go on, tell us.”

It takes a second to build up the guts to speak. He’s never liked being in the spotlight. “In the raid on Deadlock I got pinned on a roof. I shot some of Reyes’ agents in the head and hurt a lot of others.”

The table is quiet for a couple seconds. Then:

“That’s it?”

Jesse turns to Harris, confused. The blonde man looks like he’s waiting for a punchline. “What, you shot some of these black-clad pigs? That’s all?”

“Keep your voice down!” Porter hisses at him, nodding her head towards some of the other tables where the regular agents sit.

“Right. Sorry, sorry. But c’mon you gotta admit it’s kind of unreal. Not that shooting’s not a good skill to have but it’s not exactly an unusual trait, is it?”

“Some people are better than others. Some have a gift,” Vickers says.

“Maybe. Though, I suppose we’ll probably be doing target practice soon, hey? What else do you think the boss man’s gonna make us do?”

Jesse keeps his mouth shut as the others start in on the new subject and pushes the remainder of his food around on his plate. Suddenly he’s not hungry at all any more. He looks over at the other tables and sees rows of agents glaring at him. 

He probably killed people they knew. Maybe even their friends. 

He keeps quiet for the rest of the conversation until someone calls out to say the hall is closing. The others rise from the table, drop off their trays and head towards the barracks, talking and joking with each other. 

He hangs back and slips away quietly to his room the first chance he can. His pile of old clothes are gone. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t need them anymore. They barely fit anyway, Jesse thinks as he collapses onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He does his best to ignore the lingering headache he’s been nursing since being arrested and deprived of nicotine.

He wonders if the people he killed had to stay in rooms like these at some point. If they had looked up at the same grey ceiling tiles after a long day in this place. 

His right eyelid twitches and Jesse takes it as a sign to try forcing himself to sleep. Early morning tomorrow after all. Hopefully it goes better than he thinks.

  
  


\--

  
  


It does not. 

Jesse almost sleeps in through the wakeup call and gets lost on his way to the track they’re supposed to meet at. By the time he finally finds it, he’s only got a minute to catch his breath before the drill instructor orders them to start running.

Jesse lasts for exactly one lap around the giant track and burns out. His lungs are screaming from the strain, and his legs are already starting to feel like jelly. The drill instructor doesn’t care and just yells at him to pick up the pace.

At least he’s not alone in his misery. The others all look like they’re having a hard time too, though they’re still ahead of him. Jesse tries to push himself to catch up, and promptly smashes his face into the track as he trips over his own feet.

To add insult to injury, when he looks up from the ground, he sees a couple people watching from the balcony in the building next to the field. Commander Reyes is among them. 

Jesse hopes he can’t see how red his face is from the embarrassment and tries not fall again. He finishes last and gets twenty push ups as a prize.

After a short breakfast, the rest of the training activities don’t exactly go well either. The basic workouts have Jesse gasping for air and water. In the obstacle course he gets stuck in the rope ladder and can’t quite manage to make it over the monkey bars. Or any of the other obstacles. More pushups are assigned.

They run more laps, this time in full combat gear. Jesse trips no less than three times. He gets assigned sit ups after that.

They move to the shooting range. Jesse’s still so exhausted by the body exercises that his hand shakes during target practice and he misses half his shots. Harris finds this incredibly funny, naturally. 

They get a lot less time to eat for lunch than expected. Jesse has to wolf half his meal down on his way to put his tray back before they’re on to their next event. As it turns out, writing proper reports, while physically easy, makes Jesse want to tear his hair out. The instructor calls him out for several spelling and grammatical mistakes, and makes him re-write the exercise until the same sentences are practically seared into his brain. 

Later, it’s hand to hand combat with Lieutenant Parish. Jesse steps onto the mat and lasts for about three seconds before he gets laid flat out onto his back. When he crawls back to his spot in line to get his ass kicked again, he catches a glimpse of Commander Reyes watching grimly from the doorway. By the time Jesse’s gone another round and checks again, he’s gone. 

A short supper and then another instructor is giving them history lessons about past Overwatch and Blackwatch missions and how to apply certain tactics in the field. Jesse is completely fucking lost, to say the least. 

More laps, this time in the chill of the evening. More situps for finishing last. 

By the time they’re dismissed for the evening, Jesse feels like roadkill. Every bone and muscle in his body hurts like hell, and his head throbs from all the new information that’s been drilled into it. Even if he had one of his precious cigarettes, he doesn’t know if he’d even be able to hold it up to his mouth. It’s a miracle that he can make it to the showers. 

The hot water helps a little, but Jesse can barely keep his eyes open after. He doesn’t even remember hitting his mattress before he’s asleep and dead to the world. 

The next morning it all starts again. Only it’s worse because now he has to do everything with an aching body and a bigger headache. Still, he’s had to work through worse body pains before. He doesn’t bother whining to the others about it. Harris and Gallo do enough of that already.

Over the next week, their basic routine stays mostly the same as their first training day. Sometimes the order of events changes, sometimes the drill instructors make them scrub and clean areas of the base instead of running, and sometimes they introduce something new into the regimen. 

What doesn’t change is that Commander Reyes is never the one to teach them. He’s not a ghost exactly; he still shows up in the peripherals of Jesse’s vision, guaranteed to watch every single time Jesse stumbles and fails. But he never leads any of the exercises. He doesn’t even really speak to them. He just creeps up in the background, frowns and then disappears. 

Jesse tries to tell himself the man is less hot out of his Deadlock disguise, but it’s just not true. He’s still stupidly attractive and Jesse hates him for it. 

Four weeks into their new lives, the strain on Jesse’s body starts easing a little. He has to look twice in the mirror when he thinks he sees actual muscles starting to take shape on his arms. He’s not always in last place any more, and he can somehow make it through a couple of the obstacles in the course without starting over. His aim is getting better now that his hands don’t shake so much, and while he still can’t last very long against Parish, he’s managed to win a few matches against his team mates at least. 

Things are starting to look up. So naturally, Jesse’s luck has to fail again. 

He should have known something was up when the evening run is conveniently cancelled. The others start cheering as the instructor tells them they each now have their own choice of what they’d like to practice in the evenings instead. Jesse’s already walking toward the shooting range when the instructor puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Not you, McCree. Commander Reyes wants you to report to building five. Room 4A.” He pulls his hand back and points in the right direction. “Best you hurry up.”

Jesse hurries but it is absolutely not because he thinks Reyes is waiting for him.

He shouldn’t have worried. Reyes isn’t there. Obviously. Instead, there’s a middle aged woman in civilian wear behind a large desk. Several books, writing utensils and folders are in front of her. The room looks like the classrooms they use for tactical training and report writing, but no one else is sitting at any of the smaller desks lined up in rows.

The woman doesn’t seem to notice him at first, so Jesse clears his throat. “I uh. Commander Reyes ordered me to report here?” Jesse explains awkwardly. This was the right room, wasn’t it?

Startled, the woman turns to look at him and smiles as she rises from her seat. “Ah. You’re Jesse McCree, I take it?”

Jesse tries not to feel too dumb for forgetting to introduce himself. “Yeah, that’s me. Is the Commander…?”

“Commander Reyes is quite busy right now but he gave me clear instructions, don’t worry.” She smiles again and motions to her desk. “They told me to bring whatever materials you would need, so please help yourself to what’s on my desk and take a seat.”

Jesse hopes he doesn’t look as confused as he feels as he picks up some books and other random supplies laid out on the table. At least his own desk isn’t too uncomfortable. 

The woman remains standing and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. “Allow me to introduce myself, Jesse. Normally my students call me Mrs. Thames, but seeing as how it’s just me and you, you can call me Lisa.”

Students? “Wait, I don’t understand. You’re a teacher?” Jesse asks, still confused. “Is this another tactics lesson?”

Lisa chuckles and shakes her head. “No, nothing of that sort I’m afraid. I’m not a part of Blackwatch, I’m just a regular high school teacher. Primarily English and History, but I used to teach Math and Science as well.”

“So you’re not a part of Blackwatch?”

“Oh, of course not. My sister is though, which is how Commander Reyes got in contact with me.” Lisa leans against her desk and folds her arms. “Tell me, how old are you Jesse?”

“Seventeen,” he mutters. He hates that question. 

“And when was the last time you attended school?”

_Is she serious?_ Jesse thinks to himself. By the way she waits, he figures she must be. “Uh.” He tries to think back. He’d still been going to school when he was with the foster family so… “Around four years ago? Eighth grade I think? I didn’t finish it, but I’m pretty sure that’s where I left off.”

She nods. “I see. We have a lot of catching up to do then. Generally, kids your age are almost finished schooling, but that’s okay. I’m confident we’ll be able to get you caught up in a reasonable amount of time.”

Jesse’s stomach twists. “What do you mean, caught up? What am I doing here?”

Lisa seems a little surprised. “They haven’t told you?” Jesse shakes his head. “I see. Well, Commander Reyes was very firm about this. He wants me to help you to get caught up on the current school curriculum and earn your twelfth grade diploma.” She takes a book from her desk and flips it open. 

“Shall we begin?”

  
  


\--

  
  


It’s not easy but Jesse manages to pin the bastard down. Even inhumanly strong, stupidly attractive Commanders need to piss, he figures. 

The second he steps past the door to follow Reyes into the bathroom, his face meets the hard tile of the wall. He barely has time to yelp in surprise.

“It’s past lights out, McCree.” Reyes growls as he holds Jesse’s arm behind his back. “Want to explain why you’ve been hiding outside this door for over an hour?”

Fuck. His stupid tracker really was accurate.

“It’s not like you’re ever around long enough to take questions, asshole!” Jesse hisses. “The fuck else was I supposed to do?”

“If it’s something important, you ask one of the other agents and they can get a hold of me. Is that really outside of your realm of thinking?” 

“I’m not taking that bullshit class you signed me up for!” 

Reyes’ grip eases enough for Jesse to twist away and glare at him while he rubs at his arm. “Why not?” Reyes asks.

“Are you kidding? Everybody else is getting extra aim or endurance practice and instead of that you’re making me do fucking worksheets and book reports!”

“I don’t care what everyone else is doing, you’re doing the course.”

Jesse grinds his teeth. “I don’t need a goddamn diploma! I’m gonna be doing your stupid missions and shooting people before they shoot me! How’s a dumb piece of paper gonna help with that, huh?”

Reyes narrows his eyes. He reaches out and flicks the lock on the bathroom door closed. Jesse swallows as the man takes a step closer. 

“You’re going to be in for one hell of a punishment for breaking curfew and hiding out in a senior officer’s wing, so I’ll be generous. I’ll give you some answers. You can think on them while you’re scrubbing the mud off every god damn boot on this base.” Reyes growls as he looms over him. 

“Despite all the action that happens in our missions, basic math is something all my agents need to have. How the fuck else will you know how much ammo we have left, or how to line up a ricochet shot accurately? My snipers need to be able to calculate wind resistance and projectile drop off in critical conditions to land their shots. My drivers and pilots need to know how much weight their vehicles can carry to maintain optimal speed.”

He takes another step closer. Jesse takes one back. “We run ops all over the planet, McCree. You think my agents can afford to not understand how various governments operate? How relations are between different countries and why? No, because they know some simple history and social studies.” Another step. 

“I’ve had missions where we had to take extra precautions because the lunatics we were after were making chemical weapons or traps that we needed to disarm. Not only that, I need agents who know how to patch themselves up when they run out of biotics and are stranded with minimal supplies. Simple science.” 

Jesse keeps his mouth shut. Reyes continues. “It’s not always raids on drug cartels and arms dealers either. There’s undercover work. Reconnaissance. You’re in hostile enemy territory, surrounded by people watching your every move and word. When you manage to make contact with your allies, you pick your words damn carefully. And if you’re the one able to pick out discrepancies in messages, you could turn the tide of battle. On top of that, when you get written commands, I need to know you’ll be able to understand them no matter how complicated they might be. Your worksheets on picking apart short stories for english? Consider it practice.”

Jesse’s up against the wall now, staring wide eyed up at the Commander. There’s not much difference in height between them, but he feels incredibly small in comparison at the moment. 

“And you know what, McCree? Even if you never use the shit the nice woman in the classroom teaches you? I don’t care. Because if you come out with a passing grade, it’ll mean you had a problem in front of you that you couldn’t shoot your way out of and you were able to solve it.”

Jesse swallows and struggles to think of more excuses to throw back to Reyes. “Not everyone on the team finished school. Why’d you only sign me up for it?”

“Because you are seventeen years old and you deserve the chance to finish your education. And you can bitch and whine about it as much as you want but so long as you’re underage and on my squad, you’re taking the class.”

“I won’t be underage forever.” Jesse steels his courage and meets Reyes’ dark eyes. “I’ll be a legal adult soon.”

“Well then, on that day I’ll give you the choice to continue or not. Until then, you’re taking it. And just to make you quit your whining, I’ll even offer it to the rest of the team who didn’t finish school too. Happy?”

Jesse shoots him the meanest look he can. “Fucking peachy. When the others ask why I’m doing so shitty on a mission in the meantime, I’ll know who to thank at least.”

Reyes raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think you’re going on a mission before then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jesse asks, clenching his fists. “We can’t do basic training forever. Don’t military guys usually get shipped off within months?”

The Commander shakes his head incredulously. “I am a lot of things, McCree. Morally pure is not one of them. The whole reason I run this division is because I’m willing to do the crap work most people can’t. But even I won’t send a seventeen year old boy to a battlefield.”

Jesse’s nails bite into the skin of his palms. “God you’re so full of shit! I’m not some average kid, Reyes, I’ve been in gunfights before! I’ve already been shot at and killed people! I’ve been living with arms dealers and gang bangers for years! You can’t make me take some dumb school class and pretend I’m not a-” He stutters as anger he didn’t know he had rises up “-a fucking... _mess_ of a person!”

Reyes is the one to keep quiet this time as Jesse’s voice rises. “Who are you trying to kid, anyway? I’m already training to kill people for you, how is that normal? And I’m not stupid, I see the looks and glares! I know I’m working with agents who were friends with people _I murdered._ I don’t deserve an education, and I don’t deserve your bullshit second chance excuse. I deserve to be dead in the fucking desert.”

He takes a moment to catch his breath. The words had come out faster than he realized.

“Jesse,” Reyes says, breaking the awkward silence.

“Did you even like me at all?” 

That catches Reyes off guard. Jesse isn’t looking at him anymore but he knows it.

“What do you mean?” 

Jesse hates how itchy and watery his eyes start to feel. “Back in Deadlock. When you were acting your part, pretending to be everyone’s friend. Did you actually like spending time with me or was it just that -- pretending?” He forces a laugh. “I know it must have been too fucking easy, some idiot kid with a crush feeding you whatever information you needed. Was that the only reason you let me hang around so much?” He gestures around the room and lets his arms fall back to his sides. “Is that what this is now? You trying to fix your conscience for fucking the Deadlock cumdump over too? How’s it working for you? Because I gotta say, me personally I feel like shit.”

Reyes doesn’t say anything. The room is silent, aside from a few sniffles that Jesse tries to stifle and hide.

Eventually the awkwardness stretches long enough that he realizes what exactly he’s just said. To his Commander no less. He opens his mouth to apologize. Maybe he can lessen the humiliation a little.

“I liked spending time with you,” Reyes says, cutting him off.

It’s Jesse’s turn to be caught off guard. “Wh-”

“Despite what you may think, I looked forward to you being around. I told you lies about me, but I told you truths too. I shouldn’t have, but I did.” He shakes his head just enough to be noticeable. “On that last night before the sting, I very nearly murdered that man for hurting you. Given the chance to do everything over, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Reyes looks him in the eye as he says it. Jesse’s not sure what to think. He’s been trying not to think of Bishop since it happened, but there’s no way to forget the sickening sound of the crowbar crushing his bones. Or the squelching sound of Jesse’s boot digging into his guts.

“I can’t fix the past, Jesse. I can’t unarrest you. I can’t go back and undo your time with Deadlock. I can’t go back and move you out of the foster home. And I can’t go back and tell your father to stop drinking and take care of you like he should have.” 

Jesse bites his lip so hard he can taste blood on his tongue.

“What I can do? I can keep you under my watch and try to give you a new start. I can train you so that the next time Deadlock or any other pieces of shit like them tries to take advantage of you, you know how to properly defend yourself. I can get you started on something of a career based on skills you have a natural affinity for. And I can give you a basic fucking education so that in the future you can make some better informed decisions of your own.”

Reyes turns away. “You can hate me all you want in the meantime. I’m a man of my word. If you don’t want to finish the course by the time you’re eighteen, I won’t make you. But Jesse,” He looks over at him and for a brief moment his stare makes Jesse feels like it’s just the two of them back in the old Deadlock garage. 

“I know you’ve done some bad things in your life. Most of it you had to do, some of it you didn’t. That doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. Especially not when there’s still so much time to change for the better. And I truly believe you can be better. I really do. You don’t deserve to be dead in the desert. You don’t deserve to be locked in a cell. You deserve another chance at life, even if it’s not a normal one. So take it.”

He unlocks the door. 

“I don’t hate you,” Jesse says suddenly as Reyes grabs the handle. 

Reyes pauses for a long moment. He spares Jesse one more glance. 

“Don’t get caught out of bed again.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

The next morning Jesse gets double laps and cleanup duty for a week. It’s a lot more lenient than he expected, really. He goes to Lisa’s class without complaint.

On Fridays, his mid day runs are replaced with meetings with the base’s resident therapist.

  
  


\--

  
  


Weeks eventually turn into months. The first day that Jesse never finishes last, he almost can’t believe it. His muscles definitely become more and more defined. Writing reports becomes easier once he knows the formula. It helps that Lisa’s been especially patient with his spelling and sentence structure. He doesn’t trip up on the obstacle courses any more. He even goes back to help Porter get out of the wire crawl once when she gets stuck. 

His aim gets much better, even if he’s still not a fan of the rifles and pistols they make him practice with. In the evenings, his classes with Lisa can be frustrating sometimes but she’s patient and explains things as many times as he needs her to. Harris and Porter each attend one session but never come back. Jesse finds he doesn’t mind so much. It’s kind of nice not to have to compare his progress with anyone. 

By the time winter rolls around he almost can’t remember what life was like back in the gorge. Almost. The therapist tries his best, it’s not his fault Jesse doesn’t usually talk much during their sessions. Still, even if he doesn’t make much use of it he appreciates the attempt.

Near the end of the year, there’s honest to God snow falling slowly in the training fields when their regular drills end for the day. Vickers, Porter, and Ross cheer and try to catch flakes on their tongues while Harris and Gallo make a beeline toward the warmth of the mess hall. Jesse laughs and looks up at the darkening sky, admiring the cold beauty of the change in weather. 

“It’s probably too warm for it to stay on the ground without melting, but it’s kind of nice don’t you think?” Porter asks as she comes over and stands beside him. 

“Yeah. Been awhile since I seen snow. Guess I missed it.” He sticks his tongue out to catch some flakes for the fun of it.

“Come on slowpokes, food time!” Vickers calls out to them as he and Ross head towards the mess hall. Jesse and Porter both roll their eyes and smile as they follow.

Porter chats with Jesse about the new training simulators they’ve recently started using all the way back until they’re sitting down at their table. Jesse looks away from her just in time to catch the others grinning at each other. They rise up unanimously.

_“Happy birthday to you,”_ the five of them start. _“Happy birthday to you,”_

Jesse’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as Parish and a few other senior agents walk up to the table with a small, modestly decorated cake. Eighteen candles stick out of it, burning brightly as he sets it down in front of Jesse.

_“Happy birthday, McCree-ee,”_ more voices sing. When he looks up from the cake, he thinks he might be hallucinating. Just beyond the group, he sees Commander Reyes standing with his Captain, arms folded, possibly smiling as he mouths the rest of the words of the song. 

_“Happy birthday to you!”_

The others all cheer and clap loudly. Even Reyes claps. 

“Close your eyes and make a wish!” Porter urges, beaming at him. 

Jesse laughs and looks around one last time as the others loudly agree with her 

suggestion. 

Jesse closes his eyes and blows out sixteen candles. He blows the remaining two out but he’s not fast enough to stop Gallo and Harris from mocking him lightly about two future lovers while Parish hands Jesse a knife to cut the cake with. 

“Reyes gave Mrs. Thames the day off,” he murmurs when Jesse offers him a piece. “He approved everyone in the squad for free time tonight too. I think he wants to talk to you personally when you get a chance though.” 

Jesse thanks him and looks for Reyes again, but the man isn’t in the hall anymore. In the meantime, the others descend on the cake like starving beasts. Before long it’s nothing but icing smears and chocolate crumbs. 

“Oi, McCree, before I forget!” Harris says from across the table, swallowing the last of his piece. “Got you a present!” 

“You what?” Jesse laughs, wiping his napkin over his mouth. 

Harris grins and reaches into his pocket, while Gallo keeps an eye out, presumably for the stricter senior agents. “Ta-da!” Harris exclaims as he drops a lone cigarette into Jesse’s open palm. 

“You’re shitting me,” Jesse gapes.

“My turn, my turn!” Gallo pipes up, dropping a cheap pink bic lighter beside it. “I think it’s got a couple more flicks left in it anyway.”

“My present was the cake, my own special recipe!” Vickers adds. “Got to use the kitchens here and everything.”

“Hope you don’t mind, I left your present from me under your pillow,” Ross says. Jesse’s not sure he trusts the smirk on his lips. 

“I made you a card,” Porter says, her cheeks red as she hands it to Jesse. It’s decorated beautifully considering she used only pen. “Happy birthday, McCree.”

Inside the five of them have all signed it with little comments, along with Parish and Lisa. There are other agents too, ones that Jesse has been talking to more and more lately, and some that he’s pretty sure used to hate him when he first arrived but have apparently changed their minds since training with him. 

Hidden in the mess of quotes and names, Jesse even spots Reyes’ signature. 

“This is… you guys, this is amazing. I can’t believe you did this for me.” Jesse shakes his head in disbelief as he looks between all of their faces. “Why?”

“It’s not everyday you live to see a baby soldier become a man,” Gallo teases. “We figured it was a big enough deal to maybe convince the higher ups to allow a cake at least. That was the real goal. Sorry, kid.”

“Worth it,” Jesse laughs, pocketing his gifts. “Thank you. All of you. This is probably the best birthday I’ve had in years.”

“Wow, that’s depressing,” Ross says. “Well, here’s hoping future ones are way better.” He raises his glass of water. “Happy Birthday!”

Everyone else raises their glasses and coffee mugs as well and toasts. After that they hang out for a while joking and chatting long into the evening. Gradually everyone starts trickling out one by one and eventually Jesse decides he won’t be missed if he leaves too.

Jesse slips away to a relatively hidden area behind one of the storage sheds. It’s late enough that no one else should interrupt him for awhile, so he thinks he should be safe.

Holding the cigarette between his lips, he does his best to keep the lighter protected from the snow and light wind. It takes a couple tries, but he manages to get one tiny flame going. It’s all he needs. 

That first puff is like heaven. He leans back against the shed and smiles, closing his eyes and basking in the scent of it as he exhales. 

“Better not let your Commander see that, I hear he’s a real hardass.”

Jesse nearly jumps out of his skin. Standing beside him, Reyes smirks.

“I. Uh. This is--” Jesse looks down at the cigarette between his fingers and then back up to Reyes. “This is exactly what it looks like.”

“Hm.” Reyes reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver case. “Well. Good thing you’re not a minor anymore or I’d have to bust you. By the way,” he pauses to pull a familiar looking cigarette out of the case “tell Harris the next time he tries to pickpocket me, he’s doing triple laps for a month.”

Jesse lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and laughs. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Reyes nods and pulls out his own lighter. A moment later, both of them are leaning against the storage shed, staring up at the winter sky and silently smoking.

“Thanks for. Y’know. Signing my card and letting them have a cake.”

Reyes exhales. “Thank Parish, he pulled all the strings.”

“Nice try, Parish doesn’t do anything without you telling him to first. So. Thanks.”

Reyes rolls his eyes, but Jesse thinks he might see the hint of a smile. “You’re welcome.” They stay quiet for another moment as they smoke. “Well? Feel any different after today?” Reyes asks, breaking the silence.

Jesse shrugs. “No, not really. I mean, I’m still where I was yesterday. I still got this dumb thing on me,” he waves his left hand, the tracker light blinking as steadily as ever. “But I guess it’s kind of nice to have a different answer to _how old are you_ now.” 

“That’s fair. Think I felt mostly the same when I was your age.” Reyes takes another drag. 

Jesse tries to imagine Reyes at the same age as him. It’s harder to picture than he thought it would be. “Where were you when you turned eighteen?”

The man shrugs. “Think I was at home in LA. I had to wait for the recruitment office to give me a callback after I handed in my application that morning. Pretty sure I spent the day pacing my room waiting for the phone to ring.”

“You started that early?”

Reyes nods. “My father was a military man. Figured I’d follow in his footsteps, so to speak.” He taps some ash onto the ground. “And now, over twenty years later here I am. A Commander.”

Jesse lets out a puff of his own. “Is he...would he be proud?”

“Heh.” Reyes brushes some snowflakes out of his curls. “He is. Sometimes.” At Jesse’s questioning look, Reyes shrugs. “There are certain lifestyle choices of mine that he doesn’t completely agree with. But we’re fine.”

“Oh.” Awkward, Jesse thinks as he brushes some ashes off his pant leg. 

“Like I said, we’re fine.” Reyes takes another drag. The silence returns. It probably shouldn’t feel as comfortable as it is. Jesse would be content to let it stretch out, but his cigarette is growing smaller by the second.

“Reyes,” he says carefully. “I’ve been thinking.”

His Commander turns to face him, cigarette between his lips. Smoke trails up lazily into the sky.

Jesse’s palms sweat a little. It seems weirder to say it out loud. “I’m gonna finish my school course. I’m gonna get my diploma, or whatever.” He inhales deeply on his next drag.

Reyes doesn’t say anything at first. Then his lips twitch into a small but genuine smile. He looks away quickly, but Jesse sees it anyway. 

“Best of luck to you then, kid.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Later that night, Jesse falls into bed with a smile on his face. He sits up again after feeling something under his pillow. Remembering what Ross had said about his present, he pulls out what feels like a piece of paper and flicks on the lamp at his desk. 

Along with a post-it note saying ‘You’re Welcome’, is a printout of the cover to a men’s fitness zine. It’s dated years ago, around the end of the omnic crisis. The main subtitle reads _“The Men Of Overwatch: Get The Body Of A Hero!”_ Posing across a blue background, are several shirtless men.

Including one Gabriel Reyes.

After a long, thoughtful moment, Jesse carefully tucks the picture under his mattress and turns off his lamp. Crawling back into bed, he pulls the covers up, closes his eyes and sighs. 

Best birthday ever.

  
  
  
  



	3. Hey Man, Nice Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blackwatch Probationary Squad gets their first trial mission. Jesse has some decisions to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: minor character deaths, blood, violence, and manipulation.
> 
> Thank you to Alex and Mo-Mouse/Evi for beta reading!

Before he knows it, over a year has come and gone at the Blackwatch training base. Jesse definitely has some solid muscle to him now, even if he still looks lean and lanky. Reyes seems to think it won’t last forever at least. 

Since the new year began, the Commander has become more involved in the probationary squad’s training routines. Jesse should have known it was too good to be true when he finally managed to win a sparring match against Parish. Reyes had stepped in immediately to re-acquaint Jesse and the others with the floor mats. 

Every so often the Commander takes over their other courses too, including the more difficult mission simulations that have been introduced over the past few months. He doesn’t do it enough to make it a regular occurrence, but it’s enough to keep them all on their toes to do well and impress him. 

True to his word, Jesse keeps up with his studies with Lisa. When it’s time for major exams, Reyes clears him for a week off everything except for morning laps. The others whine about the unfairness, but truth be told Jesse would much rather run training simulations than stress over school tests. Still, it pays off in the end when he passes all of them. Not with flying colours, but by enough that he’s proud of himself, considering how fast he’s had to catch up. 

“It usually takes people your age years to retain everything you’re learning in much less time than that,” Lisa reassures him. “We have to skip a few things in each course, but nothing I think you wouldn’t be able to comprehend on your own if you looked into it. You should feel extremely proud, Jesse. You’re doing wonderfully. At this rate you’ll have your diploma in no time.”

He actually believes her now. He’s already moved on to tenth grade level material, something even Reyes has congratulated him for. The work gets more and more difficult, but Jesse tackles it anyway. On the bright side, the Commander stopped making his therapy sessions mandatory after Jesse argued that it was an hour he could be studying instead, and _yes he knows the therapist will still be available any time if he needs it, thanks Reyes_.

Another month passes uneventfully. Jesse trains, studies, and sleeps on a perfect schedule. Then one day everything changes again. 

On their way to the running track, Jesse and the others in the probationary squad are stopped and ordered to head to a meeting room in one of the senior office buildings. It makes all of them a little uneasy, but no one argues. When they get there, Commander Reyes, his Captain, and Lieutenant Parish are all waiting at the head of the room for them. 

“You’re all being assigned a mission,” Reyes says grimly. “A real one. I’d hoped to wait a little longer, but you’ve all been doing well enough in your training that me and the senior officers have decided that it’s something you can handle. Make no mistake though, it’s urgent.”

All six of them look surprised. Sure, they’ve been running more difficult training simulations lately, but they’ve yet to do any actual field work. Jesse shifts nervously at the thought of it. 

Porter looks just as concerned as he does. “You really think we’re ready for that, Commander?” she asks carefully.

Reyes nods. “I do. Now take a seat, all of you. I need to brief you on the details.”

No one says a word after that as they sit down. They watch as a holoscreen on the far wall lights up. Reyes brings up some photos of a warehouse near what looks to be a jungle, along with map layouts of the interior and exterior areas. Jesse listens as closely as he can as Reyes explains the situation to them. 

A small unit had been sent to clear out a group of wanted criminals known for creating and illegally selling dangerous weapons tech. Blackwatch intelligence tracked them to their hideout in the area, where it was confirmed they were working on some sort of electromagnetic jamming beacon. Supposedly, it could be used to damage omnics as well as shut down other defensive technology. The unit was cornered when a backup group of hostiles showed up and opened fire. Communication ended after that, but the final report indicates that the team is currently pinned down in the warehouse and nearly out of supplies and ammunition. 

Reyes moves on to the plan of rescue. The six members of the probationary squad, along with Parish and several other Blackwatch agents will go in and provide backup, extract the original unit, and destroy the tech beacon. Evac helicarriers will be waiting for them at a riverbank a couple miles into the rainforest. 

“You’re not coming with us?” Gallo asks suddenly. The rest of them look just as concerned. 

Reyes shoots her an unimpressed look for interrupting and then shakes his head. “Not this time. There’s another important matter I’m needed for while you’re all gone. It can’t be ignored. However, my second in command Captain Larson will be with you, as well as Lieutenant Parish and a team of other highly experienced operatives.”

Parish smiles, while Larson gives them all his usual gruff glare. Jesse’s pretty sure it’s meant to be intimidating, but it hasn’t worked on him since Harris joked that it made the Captain look like he had to take one hell of a shit.

“Rest assured, I’ll be back by the time you all are. As I mentioned earlier, you’ve all been doing well in your training, I’m sure you’ll succeed in the actual field. Now, for infiltration...”

Reyes goes on to explain various tactics that would work best against the hostiles, which stairwells are best to use in the warehouse, where the drop off and extraction points will be, and more. It’s almost too much to remember. Jesse doesn’t notice his hands shaking until they’ve all been dismissed with orders to be ready for deployment in ten minutes. 

He’s the last one to leave when he feels a weight on his shoulder. Looking to his right, Jesse sees Reyes’ hand. 

“Just breathe,” he says quietly. “Count down from six if you have to. You can do this.”

Jesse’s afraid to speak. He wants to feel confident, but he knows his voice will betray him if he tries to say anything. He nods. Reyes lets go of his shoulder. “I’ll see you when you get back. Good luck, McCree.”

A few hours later, Jesse is buckled into his seat on the helicarrier, regulation gun strapped to his thigh, ready to see just how much his training has actually paid off. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Despite everyone’s nerves, things are going smoothly once they reach the target destination. After landing, they split into two teams. Larson takes most of the senior agents to head towards the front of the base. Parish takes the rest of them, directing them down a back route that takes them all directly behind the enemy’s main outer hub. The warehouse is in sight when Jesse looks up. It casts a dark, ominous silhouette against the setting sun. 

They’re almost in position behind cover, ready to strike. Jesse looks away from the warehouse and time slows around him. A shot pierces through the air. 

Parish, who has been leading them all until that point, falls to the ground. Blood starts pouring from his head and into the dirt beneath them. Someone on the team screams, but Jesse doesn’t have time to process who. 

Movement above catches his eye. As he looks up, an explosion to the left sends him flying. 

Jesse must black out for a moment, because he doesn’t even remember landing. When he opens his eyes again he’s staring up at the darkening sky while gunshots rattle all around him. For a horrifying second, Jesse wonders if he’s back in Deadlock Gorge - if everything in Blackwatch had been just a dream. 

_No_. He’s not dreaming. He sits up and realizes it’s worse than that. Now there are bodies in black on the ground and more pools of blood sinking into the dirt. Specks of it contrast brightly against tall green grass. Suddenly Jesse realizes he’s landed in a very clear and open patch of grass in enemy territory.

His eyes widen and he drops back to the ground as a bullet flies right over his head, barely missing him. _Oh God, where am I? Where is everyone?_ he wonders as he moves quickly behind some crates nearby. He can hear people fighting, and he recognizes the sounds of Blackwatch weapons, but he can’t pinpoint their exact location. Other than the armour letting him know they’re on his side, no one on the ground nearby is recognizable to him. 

Tapping the comm at his ear Jesse tries to keep his voice steady. “This is McCree, can anyone read me?”

He gets nothing but dead silence in return. They must have activated the jamming tech already. Shit. 

Swallowing, he tries to calm his shaking hands and pulls out the 9mm at his thigh. Focus. _Focus_. They must have been seen on the way in, or the enemy was tipped off somehow. It’s okay. Just a minor setback. _Focus on the mission_ , that’s what Reyes would probably say.

Jesse takes a deep breath and peeks around the corner of his cover just long enough to get a decent image of his surroundings. Two hostiles within his range. He doesn’t think they’ve seen him yet. They’re on their guard though, he’ll need to be fast. Behind them are some loading trailers that could work as another cover point, a tall wire fence, and beyond that an open area of dirt leading up to the warehouse. Thinking back to the terrain and building layouts Reyes had made them memorize, Jesse thinks there should be a side stairwell from the point he’s facing. If he can just make it there in one piece anyway. 

He needs to get the targets out. Hopefully he can find his teammates before then, or at least some other Blackwatch agents that are still alive.

_Just breathe. You can do this._ Reyes’ words repeat themselves in Jesse’s head as he raises his gun, counts down from six, and exhales. 

“Here goes nothing,” he whispers to himself. 

Jesse leans out of cover and shoots both enemies clean in the head. He doesn’t let himself think about the sight of their deaths, he’s too busy running past them toward cover. He ducks in between two of the trailers and nearly shouts as a third man runs in between them at the same time. He’s not wearing black and Jesse raises his gun on instinct. He pulls the trigger and the man goes down. 

He can’t stay here. He has to move. He peeks around the corner of the trailer, gauging how much further he needs to go. The fence is about thirty feet away. Better cover from the nearby treeline is about fifty. He starts scanning for more enemies when suddenly he notices a familiar blonde head. It moves out from behind one of the wide trees near the edge of the surrounding jungle.

“McCree! Over here, I’ll cover you!” Harris’ familiar voice calls to him. 

Overwhelming relief takes hold of Jesse as he recognizes the familiar face. He keeps his gun out just in case and bolts over toward his teammate. Harris fires off a few shots and it must be enough, because Jesse makes it to cover alive and in one piece. 

“McCree, holy shit!” Harris gasps as they kneel down to hide behind some trees further in. The jungle creeps back far beyond them, but Jesse knows it could be hiding enemies as well. “Holy shit,” Harris gasps again. “This is fucking crazy. Are you seeing this shit? They just started firing on us out of nowhere! A-And Parish! He’s fucking dead right? What the fuck?”

“Shh,” Jesse says, keeping his eyes peeled as he reloads. When he speaks again, he makes sure to keep his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear. “They might’ve snuck in the trees too.” He turns to Harris, who looks like he’s seen better days by the expression on his face. “Any sign of the others?”

Harris shakes his head. “After that blast, I think everyone got separated. Last I saw of them was Gallo screaming after...” his face pales as he trails off. 

Jesse tries not to think about it. Later. He’ll deal with it all later. In the meantime he pushes his bangs out of his face and looks back to where he’d run from. “We can still do this. They got the drop on us but if we can cut through that fence, we can get in from the side emergency stairwell. They gave us wire clippers for it on the ride over here, should be easy enough. Once we’re in we can get the targets to back us up, we’ll be safer after that.”

“You want to run back into that deathzone? Seriously?” Harris gapes at Jesse as though he’s grown an extra head. “Did you not see the Lieutenant die right in front of us?”

“Mission ain’t over. There’s people still trapped in there, Harris. We have to get ‘em out.” Jesse carefully pops his head out behind the tree toward the warehouse’s direction. Harris goes quiet, thankfully. “That stretch of land between the fence and the warehouse is gonna be risky though, we’ll need to cover each other to-”

“McCree,” Harris interrupts, abruptly grabbing his shoulder. “Look at your wrist.”

Jesse blinks at him, confused by the sudden change in his tone. “Whaddya mean, look at my…” He trails off as he finally notices it. 

The little green light isn’t blinking anymore. It’s not doing much of anything anymore, really. The only thing on Jesse’s left wrist is a blank black strap that’s hanging a lot looser than it had before.

“That beacon doesn’t just jam tech, it completely shuts it down” Harris explains, his voice raising in excitement. “Our comms are all dead, same with any other signal based devices, but it fried the trackers too!” He shakes Jesse again. “Don’t you see what this means?”

Jesse stares up at him in disbelief. 

“McCree, we’re _free_.”

Jesse looks at the strap on his wrist again. It’s true. It’s loose enough that if Jesse tried, he could probably slip it off without too much hassle. Now that he thinks about it, all throughout training the trackers have gone through water, mud, and all other manner of harassment up until that point. The little green light has never stopped blinking. Until now. 

Jesse realizes Harris is still looking at him excitedly. He doesn’t know how to respond. How can he? “W-We’ll have to tell--”

Harris’ wide grin drops into a frown. “McCree. Tell me you’re not seeing this?”

“Seein’ what?”

Harris motions toward the warehouse and surrounding area, where they can still hear people shooting at one another as others scream in pain. Then he motions to the massive stretch of rainforest behind them. “We’ll never get a better chance.”

It only takes Jesse a second to understand. “You wanna run away.”

“And you don’t?” Harris laughs humorlessly. “You serious? Look around you! You want to die in a place like this, shot up to pieces while dicks like Reyes and Larson bark orders at you constantly? You like living in a military prison day in, day out? Because that’s what this is! We all know it!”

“It’s not! Reyes said once we’re full agents things’ll be--”

“You seriously believe Reyes will ever let us go? Let _you_ go?” Harris shakes his head and stands up. “We’re criminals, McCree! Yeah, it was nice not being locked up in supermax, but what do you think will happen to us if we make one wrong move down the line? He’s either gonna ship us off first chance he gets or we die for him in some fucking jungle nowhere near home. Hell, we’re only here because he thinks we’re entertaining to him, what’ll happen when he’s bored of us? I’m not-- I’m not gonna waste any more of my life being someone else’s bitch!” Harris snaps.

“Reyes isn’t like that and you know it!”

“Reyes isn’t like that _with you_!” 

Jesse glares up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like you don’t know. That bullshit school thing, the extra time off, your birthday… Seems like he sure plays favourites, don’t he?”

“He does not!” Jesse snarls. “He’s got his reasons for doing all that!”

Harris nods. “‘Course he does. It’s because he knows you got some stupid little crush on him and he can get you to do whatever he wants because of it.” 

Jesse’s face heats up, whether from embarrassment or anger, he’s not entirely sure. “Fuck you! It’s not like that!”

“It _is_ like that! You’d see it clearly too if it were happening to anyone else! Reyes knows how you feel and he doesn’t care. To him, you’re just a loyal puppy trying to please it’s master. All he has to do is give you is scraps of affection here and there. It’s just an easy way for him to fucking manipulate you. It’s how assholes like him operate. Don’t fall for it. You might be young McCree, but even I know you’re smarter than that.”

Harris steps back. Slowly he offers his hand to Jesse. “Come with me. Let’s get the hell out of here. Away from him. Away from all of the other assholes like him. We can start over and be free on our own terms!”

Jesse stares at Harris’ outstretched hand. He doesn’t want it to, but doubt starts creeping into his mind. Maybe he’s right. Reyes has lied and used him before, after all. Maybe it’s happening again, just like back in Deadlock. Maybe Jesse will never actually be free if he stays. But...

_“I truly believe you can be better. I really do.”_

A warm hand on his shoulder, cleaning his face up in an old, dim lit garage.

_“You deserve another chance at life, even if it’s not a normal one.”_

A quiet moment of vulnerability, smoking in the snow.

_“You can do this. Just breathe.”_

Jesse ignores Harris’ hand and slowly pulls himself up off the ground. Harris takes one look at him and sighs. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, McCree.”

Jesse nods. “You too, Harris.”

There’s an awkward silence between them as they stare at each other, both hoping the other one will change their mind. After a long moment Harris mumbles a swear under his breath then turns and runs. Jesse watches him go until he disappears among the thick leaves and tree trunks, vanishing from sight.

Jesse only allows himself a brief pause to dwell on the loss of his friend, then turns back toward the warehouse. 

His team is still out there and there’s a mission to finish. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The mission is definitely a failure, McCree thinks in horror as he watches the warehouse collapse into a fiery inferno right after he cuts through the fence. He doesn’t know if it’s his team’s doing or not. 

On the somewhat positive side, he’s not dead yet. Not even injured too badly, aside from some scrapes and bruises. 

He might as well be from how miserable he feels though. All intel suggested the extraction targets were inside the building. If it’s gone down, they most likely have too. 

Still. He has to be sure. At the very least, maybe some other agents were closer to the warehouse than him.

The blaze is still going strong, he definitely can’t go inside to search, but he checks the immediate perimeter anyway. Besides looking for his team, Jesse’s careful to keep an eye out for any potential enemies that hadn’t run from the fire. Thankfully when he finds someone crawling away in a ditch near the eastern side of the lot, they’re wearing black with a familiar insignia on the right shoulder pad. 

“Blackwatch! Don’t shoot!” Jesse says as he starts sliding down into the ditch beside them. Naturally, the agent has their pistol aimed at him already anyway. “I’m not an enemy! I’m here to help! Are you injured?”

A helmet and a gas mask covers the agent’s head and face, but they lower their pistol and nod. 

“My leg got some shrapnel damage from the blast,” A woman’s muffled voice explains. “I only just managed to get out in time. But the others…” She looks back at the towering blaze, then away again. “I can’t move too well. You should go. More hostiles will be here soon. They already took the jamming beacon out of the warehouse before it came down, it’s probably being transported away already.” Her fist clenches in the dirt. “The mission failed. You should hurry to the evac site. Make it out with your life at least.”

Jesse clenches his jaw. “I ain’t leaving you.” Reyes would kick his ass if he heard Jesse left someone hurt. He’s pretty sure, anyway. Hell, Jesse would kick his own ass if he left her here.

He pulls her arm over his shoulder, puts his hand on her waist, and starts moving them. The agent says something that sounds both surprised and frustrated in another language, but Jesse doesn’t recognize it. “I’m not very fast, guess I should let you know. Keep your eyes peeled for me!” His pistol is already in his free hand, sleek black metal reflecting the light of the flames behind them as they slowly move toward the cover of the jungle. The evac carriers are a ways away, but not impossible to reach at least. Hopefully the rest of the team can make it out on their own.

Rather than go back the way he came, he uses his wire cutters to get them through another part of the fence. It eats up some time, but not as much as doubling back would.

“At your three!” 

Jesse doesn’t think, just twists to the right and shoots. A body hits the ground not far from them, but they don’t stop to look at it. Jesse helps the agent through the new opening and follows immediately. They keep moving. 

The injured agent calls out to him twice more as they make their way further and further into the jungle. Each time Jesse lets his arm move on instinct, putting four more hostiles down before they can barely get a shot off. 

They’re close. So close. 

By the fifth enemy, Jesse feels like he can already see the red of their blood pumping when he turns his head. Against the thick green leaves and vines around them, it’s an easy target to lock his eyes on to. 

“Nice aim,” His new companion says as the enemy drops dead into the foliage. 

“Yeah, like shooting fish in a barrel,” Jesse jokes as they move again. Thankfully there’s no more hostile encounters after that. They can hear the sound of rushing water in the distance. It gets louder and louder as they walk, and ten minutes later Jesse nearly weeps when at last they step into a clearing by the riverbank. One of the evac carriers is still there, waiting for them.

Captain Larson sees them right away and wastes no time rushing to help McCree move the hurt agent into the safety of the hull. As soon as they’re inside a couple medics on board swarm her and move her further into the carrier behind a partition. Meanwhile, Jesse takes a seat once the captain motions for him to do so. 

“Close up, let’s get moving!” Larson orders into his comm, confirming their escape route is out of range of the beacon’s effects. Jesse breathes a sigh of relief as the doors shut and the engine starts. Then he jolts in his seat. 

“Wait, what about the others?”

“There were two carriers for evac, McCree. The other one already left with most of the survivors. They knew well enough when the best time for retreat was.” He gives Jesse a look that implies Jesse absolutely did not. “We almost left without you too. We can’t wait any longer.” He glares sternly when Jesse opens his mouth to argue. “The mission failed, McCree. It’s done. Since you decided to take your sweet time, when we get back to base you can tell the Commander the news first.”

Larson leaves him to speak with the medics. Scowling, Jesse straps himself into his seat and crosses his arms. His eye catches the sight of the tracker on his wrist again and he frowns. It’s still not blinking. 

As they rise into the air, Jesse looks around the rest of the helicarrier. He doesn’t recognize anyone. There’s a few agents in their seats that were on the ground unit with him, but he’s never actually talked to them on base. 

He remembers the sight of Parish lying in the dirt and tries not to vomit. The bodies of the men in Deadlock had been one thing, seeing the body of someone he actually liked was another. 

He hopes Harris made it, wherever he was going. As the adrenaline rush from the mission starts wearing off, Jesse wonders if maybe he made the wrong call. Instead of sitting in the uncomfortable seat of the carrier, he could have been halfway to a new life by now. 

Tiredly, he looks back over at the medic partition. He thinks he overhears the injured agent say something to a medic. The low tone of her voice relaxes him slightly. 

She’s alive. She might not be if he hadn’t been there with her. _Another chance at life._ That’s reason enough to stand by his choice, he thinks. 

He leans his head back and closes his eyes. 

  
  


\--

  
  


“Explain,” Reyes demands the second Jesse and the Captain walk into his office. He does not look happy. 

Jesse stands up straight in front of the Commander’s desk, trying to look as calm and professional as possible. “Mission failed, Commander.”

“I’m aware of that much, McCree. Explain to me exactly what happened to make it fail.”

“I… honestly, Commander I don’t know. One minute we were ready to catch them by surprise, following the back route like we planned. The next, Lieutenant Parish was shot dead and a grenade went off.” Jesse pauses to take a breath. It still doesn’t seem real to him, that someone so capable as Parish is gone while he’s still alive. 

“They must’ve been tipped off to us somehow. Maybe a scout spotted us, or they had a hidden surveillance camera somewhere. Don’t matter now I guess, they found us. Anyway, the grenade blast knocked me back and I got separated from the team.” He goes on to explain the rest; his attempt at finishing the mission, the burning warehouse, finding one injured target, barely making the evac flight. All the while, Reyes’ grim facial expression doesn’t change. 

Jesse doesn’t mention Harris. 

“So the targets are all dead save for one, and multiple enemies escaped with highly dangerous technology. That’s what you’re telling me, McCree?” Reyes asks, meeting Jesse’s eyes. 

He swallows. “One more thing, sir.”

Reyes arches an eyebrow. 

“My tracking device,” Jesse starts awkwardly. “It’s uh. I don’t think it’s tracking me no more.” He holds out his left hand to Reyes so he can see what he means. 

The Commander looks at the tracker, then at Jesse. Slowly, he rises from behind his desk until he’s standing tall. “When did this happen?” he asks in a low, terrifying voice. 

“Around the time of the grenade explosion, I think. Maybe right after. I wasn’t really paying much attention if I’m being honest. Kind of busy trying not to get shot. But I think that’s when it happened.” Jesse taps at the band gently. “Green light went off anyway, and the form looks like it’s looser and weaker. That means it’s off, don’t it?”

Reyes doesn’t say anything at first. Then…

“Are you sure about that?”

“Uh…” Jesse isn’t sure what to say to that. “Y-Yeah?”

The Commander nods to the Captain. Larson salutes him and leaves the office. Reyes looks back to Jesse, and suddenly the room seems a lot smaller. 

“When I first gave you that tracker, you remember what I said?” Reyes asks. “I told you some of the most brilliant minds in the world made them. That was not an exaggeration, McCree. I called in favours to get these made exactly to my specifications. That includes a feature that can remotely turn off the light and loosen the grip.”

Jesse’s stomach drops. “So… so you know that-”

“That Harris went AWOL the moment things started going belly up? I knew that nine hours ago.” Reyes doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he seems tired. “I’m not the only one either.”

There’s a knock at the door. “Perfect timing,” Reyes mumbles. “Come in.”

Two people walk into the office. One is the agent Jesse found and escorted back to the extraction point. The other is…

“Parish?” Jesse blurts out in shock. 

Sure enough, it’s the Lieutenant. Only there’s no blood, no hole in his head where Jesse swears he saw a bullet pierce his skull. “What the… what the _fuck_ is going on?” Jesse shrieks. He spins back toward Reyes, eyes wide and body shaking. “Tell me! Right now! What the fuck is all this?”

Reyes doesn’t look the slightest bit perturbed. He just holds out his hand while Parish passes him a tablet and rubs his neck awkwardly while avoiding Jesse’s gaze. 

“Sorry, McCree,” Parish murmurs guiltily. “Didn’t want to freak you out.”

“Oh you _didn’t_? Fucking whoops then!” Jesse hisses. “Excuse me for thinking you were fucking _dead_!”

“McCree.” Reyes grabs his attention again. “Enough. He was just following orders. They all were.” 

Jesse shakes, confused and furious. “What orders? What fucking orders involve this kind of bullshit?”

“Orders to see how you and the others would react if a mission went south and the opportunity to run presented itself.” Reyes says it as though he’s telling Jesse what the weather is like. 

“I’d say he did pretty well,” The agent from earlier says while Jesse stands there in shock. Reyes rolls his eyes. 

“Take that thing off already, mission’s been over for hours.”

Jesse’s trying his best to process the clusterfuck of information he’s been given as the agent pulls off her helmet and shakes out long, black hair. Without the helmet and gas mask, he sees she’s got some kind of tattoo under her left eye, striking against her dark skin. 

“Almost forgot I was wearing it,” the agent chuckles. 

Reyes doesn’t look convinced. “McCree, this is Captain Ana Amari of Overwatch.”

More confusion. “Overwatch?” Jesse asks, turning to the woman. “Why are you decked out in Blackwatch gear then? Why the hell were you even on this mission?” He looks back to Reyes again, ready to swing his fists at him at any second. “Tell me - what the hell was the point of all this? Tell me everything! Why the fuck did you send us out in the middle of a fucking jungle to watch our team die? Why hide Overwatch agents among us? Tell me or I swear to god Reyes--”

“It was a test, McCree. A final test.” The Commander looks him in the eye, unwavering as he cuts him off. 

“What?” It makes no sense. How can it? “T-the agents who died in front of us, the hostile enemies-”

“The weapons you were given were loaded with blanks. The enemies and supporting agents were outfitted with fake bleeding mechanisms if they got hit.” Reyes looks completely calm as he explains. “No one is dead, and no one is injured. That warehouse and plot of land is ours. Everything was timed exactly to predetermined specifications. The only variables were you and the other probationary agents.” 

Jesse doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know if he could even speak if he tried. 

“It was harsh to make you think your fellow agents were dead. I admit that. But I needed to see what you would all do without a familiar face to guide you. I needed to know if you would at least try to finish the mission. As a favour to me, Captain Amari was there to see if anyone would actually search for the targets and how they would react to a team member that would potentially slow you down. She was also testing you on your field battle skills.”

“Quite the little sharpshooter you’ve got here, Reyes,” Amari quips, a small smile on her lips. “The enemy team didn’t know what hit them.”

Jesse doesn’t smile back. His eyes are solely focused on the Commander. “You said the trackers never actually went offline. That was also planned then, you making us think they were.”

Reyes nods. “It was.”

“What happened to Harris? Tell me.”

Reyes doesn’t even twitch. “He ran past the approved zone radius and tried to remove his tracking band. When he did, it activated its defense mechanism. It injected him with anesthesia that instantly rendered him unconscious. The agents on site recovered him immediately. As we speak, he’s being shipped to a prison that makes supermax seem like a vacation spot.”

Jesse feels as though he’s been hollowed out. “And if I’d ran away with him?”

“Then the same would be happening to you. But you didn’t run. You stayed.” Reyes glances at the tablet Parish handed him earlier. “You also took down multiple hostile enemies efficiently, kept your cover while making use of territorial information, searched for and recovered the surviving target, and maintained calm and composure as you escorted her back to the pick up site.” Reyes sets the tablet down on his desk. “From what I see, you did everything you could to make the best of a bad situation. Well done, McCree.”

“Who else?” Jesse asks.

“Who else what?” 

Jesse swallows. His fists are clenched so tight, he’s certain his nails have broken the skin of his palms. “Who else passed this psychotic fucking test of yours? Who else is never going to trust a goddamn word out of your mouth again?”

Reyes only blinks at him. “There is no one else, McCree.” He gestures at the room. “You’re it.”

His fingers dig in harder. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. Liam Harris, Anthony Ross, Monica Gallo, Matthew Vickers, and Corinne Porter have all been taken into Blackwatch custody for violation of their probationary terms. As soon as they noticed their trackers ‘ _went offline_ ’ all of them tried to take them off and run. You were the only one who didn’t. The only one to stay and help.” Reyes steps out from behind his desk to stand beside Jesse.

“You don’t want to believe it, and I don’t blame you. I don’t either. I wanted all of you to succeed. I wanted all of you with me on my team. But it’s the truth. If this had been a real mission I sent you on, if that beacon had actually knocked those trackers offline, they would have abandoned you. Captain Amari might be dead and I would have had to explain to her little girl why her mother was never coming home.” In the corner of his eye, Jesse sees Amari look away. 

“But _you_ stayed. You stayed and did everything you could to help her.” Reyes puts his hand on Jesse’s shoulder. 

“You passed the test, Jesse. Cruel and difficult as it was, you passed.” His other hand moves down to gently take Jesse by the wrist. It catches him by surprise, and to Jesse’s shame he feels his heartbeat pick up from the touch. When he looks down, Reyes is putting his thumb and forefinger over two points on the tracking bracelet. 

“No more tests now. You’ve more than proven yourself. You’re one of us. You belong here.”

Jesse watches, speechless as the black band separates on itself and slips off his wrist like silk into Reyes’ waiting palm. 

“Welcome to Blackwatch, Agent McCree. Officially.”


	4. Gabriel I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throw your rock and hide your hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: Minor offscreen character deaths
> 
> Thank you to Alex and Mo-Mouse/Evi for beta reading, you guys are the bomb.

“They’re pulling the program,” Jack says on the other side of the holoscreen. “I’m sorry, Gabriel.”

It’s not a surprise. Not really. One out of six isn’t exactly a stellar score. “I figured as much,” Gabriel answers. “It’s fine.” It’s not fine. 

“If it’s any consolation, Ana tells me the one who did pass seems like a good kid. He’s the one from Deadlock, right?”

“McCree.” Saying his name out loud to Jack seems… strange. It’s weird trying to picture the two of them in the same room, let alone the same sentence. “He is.”

He’s also absolutely furious with Gabriel at the moment, but that’s to be expected. After passing his probation and becoming a full fledged agent, Jesse has kept strictly to his room and the training areas, refusing to venture out anywhere else. Considering the circumstances, Gabriel thought it best to give his school teacher a couple weeks off in the meantime. No way Jesse is going to be in the right mindset for studying. The only thing he seems to want to focus on lately is target practice in the shooting range. Gabriel thinks he has a good idea who Jesse’s pretend target is.

He supposes it’s good that at least McCree is channeling his anger. Next time they have a sparring class together maybe he’ll let him get a few good swings in too. 

“On the bright side, from what she tells me, you should have a decent agent on your hands now.”

“Five dead ones too.” 

Jack sighs tiredly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I tried. I argued until I was blue in the face, but they didn’t listen. According to them, they didn’t feel safe knowing criminals with working inner knowledge of our organizations were alive and well. Blackwatch especially, everyone knows what kind of soldiers you’ve got. The idea of rogue ones didn’t sit well with any of them no matter how much I tried to sell imprisonment as an alternative.”

Gabriel looks at the files on his desk again. The previous members from his attempt at a ‘reform’ program stare up at him from their mugshots. All but one have been stamped with a red DECEASED label over their status.

Jesse’s sullen portrait judges him from the top of the pile. Gabriel sighs and runs a hand over his face in frustration. He didn’t have the heart (or maybe the guts) to tell the kid. Not after everything Jesse’s been through. 

“I really thought they would all come through, you know?” He murmurs. “They were a good bunch.” If only he’d had more time. If only he could’ve pushed for a different test, one that wasn’t so stacked against its challengers. If only he could have gone with them. Maybe things would have turned out different. 

But orders are orders. Gabriel has to sit and play nice with his superiors sometimes, just like everyone else. Even when it’s obvious those superiors want him to fail from the start.

Jack is fidgeting in his seat, Gabriel sees. 

“Something else. What is it?”

The Strike Commander stops moving and frowns. “They want you to move bases again. Canada or Switzerland, your choice. They say you’ve been in Mexico too long now.”

“Hm.” Gabriel nods. “And how many of my agents are relocating with me?”

“All of them.” Jack looks guilty as he says it. 

“So it’s a complete shutdown then.”

“Funding issue,” Jack explains weakly. They both know what it really means. 

Gabriel feels tired. Extremely tired. “How long?”

“Everything needs to be gone by the end of the month.”

Just over two weeks then. _Fuckers_. “Fine. Canada then.” Slightly easier to relocate to.

Jack gets it. “I’ll tell Ana to stay and help. She’ll be happy to see Fareeha when you stop by Vancouver.”

Something positive at least. It’s no secret Gabriel has a soft spot for Ana’s little girl. “Sounds good. Anything else to drop on me?”

Jack shakes his head. “No, I think I already gave you the worst of it. If anything else comes up I’ll let you know.” He salutes him and smiles on the other side of the screen. “Until next time.”

Gabriel attempts a return smile and salutes back. Then the screen goes blank, reflecting his own exhausted expression back at him. 

What a mess.

He shoves the files on his desk into the top drawer. He can’t look at those faces any more today. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Amari catches him on his way to his room. Damn snipers and their stealth. 

“Your boy isn’t very happy it seems,” she says as she matches Gabriel’s stride with ease.

He grunts. “He’s not _my_ _boy_. And of course he’s not. His friends are all gone and he doesn’t trust a word his superiors have to say. I wouldn’t be happy either.” He hadn’t been back when they pulled similar shit in the SEP anyway. “What’s done is done. He’s an official agent now at least.”

“You should speak to him. Sort this all out. He might be young, but he’s not unreasonable.”

Gabriel scoffs. “I’m pretty sure the last person he wants to talk to right now is me. Besides, I need to get started on relocating everyone as soon as possible thanks to our dear friends higher up.”

Ana seems amused. “Gabriel Reyes, are you afraid of talking to your teenage recruit?”

“I’m giving him space, Amari. I’ll have to talk to him soon enough, but for now I’m letting him do his own thing.” 

He’s a _little_ afraid. It’s the second time he’s pulled a fast one over on the kid, he knows Jesse won’t forget it.

Ana raises her hands, conceding. “Alright, alright, I won’t push. But I do want to ask you some things about him.”

“You have until we reach my room, at which point I am leaving you in the hall and passing out.”

“Fair enough.” Her expression turns serious. “Jesse McCree was picked up from the sting on Deadlock, yes?” Gabriel nods. “You mentioned they never taught him how to shoot?”

“They let him have a crappy six shooter to make him feel like he was important, then took it away as they pleased. He said he practiced on bottles when he could.” Gabriel glares ahead. Just the thought of Deadlock puts him in a worse mood, even if he managed to take them down in the end. What they did to Jesse, what they let happen… it’s nothing short of despicable.

“He has remarkable skill,” Ana says, interrupting Gabriel’s thoughts. “The kind that you wouldn’t expect from a boy with hardly any proper training. Not that Blackwatch is lacking, but still. He’s only been with you about a year and a half. I was expecting to have to cover him more during the final test, but there was no need. He has a natural eye for it.”

He knows that much is true. During the Deadlock bust he hadn’t even realized it was Jesse on the roof of that saloon until his sniper gave a description. The kid held them up for hours as he picked them off. With a _revolver_ no less. Gabriel still remembers Jesse quietly admitting to his first kills as well. Another reason the last Blackwatch test seemed so heartless. “From what I understand, he’s always been quick on the draw. What of it?”

“I want your permission to train him personally.”

That makes Gabriel stop in place. He turns to her incredulously. “You what?”

Ana appears to be dead serious as she stands up straight and looks him in the eye. “That boy has incredible potential and I want to help him further it. He’s good right now, but he could be _exceptional_ with the right guidance. I want to mentor him in sharpshooting. Will you allow it?”

This is definitely a surprise. “You’ve never taken an interest in any recruits before. And Morrison’s tried, I know.”

“Jack doesn’t quite have the eye for talent that you and I possess.” A look of sympathy passes over her face. “I am sorry about the others, Gabriel. I know you had high hopes for them.”

“Too high I suppose.” He starts walking again. 

“This boy is different though. You see it too, don’t you?” She’s unrelenting, following after him again. “Why else would you see to it he finish his basic education after taking him on? Especially with the chance that he might not make it through the whole trial.”

“He was underage Ana, what was I supposed to do? What do you think the higher ups would think if they--”

“You were going to let him run away in Deadlock, weren’t you?”

He stops again. Glares at her with everything he has. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but if you’re implying that I intentionally planned to let a criminal escape custody-”

“I did some digging. Went through some of the audio tapes taken during your time undercover.” She arches an eyebrow. “It’s funny. The radio often seemed to interfere when McCree came to meet with you, but not the others. Then after you assaulted a gang member, your comm went offline for a while.” 

Gabriel grunts. He’d paid for that dearly. Director Petras had nearly burst a blood vessel from all the yelling, unsure whether he was more angry about Gabriel nearly killing a man or turning off his comm hours before an extremely important sting operation. 

He hadn’t seen Jesse’s face though. The kid had been so… _vulnerable_. Gabriel hadn’t wanted that recorded for some stranger to listen to like it was nothing. And after they’d calmed down, when they were sitting together and Jesse had tried to… well. Neither of them needed that moment on record either.

Ana keeps going. “The next day during the raid you made sure to apprehend the boy yourself. You ordered the others to stand down when they had shots lined to kill. Your sniper was suspended for a time too, wasn’t he? Why? Could it be because he took a shot at him and only barely missed?”

Gabriel grinds his teeth together. “What I do with my team is Blackwatch business. That raid was my jurisdiction, you had no right to go snooping into it.”

“You’re attached to that boy, Gabriel. Like it or not. You see the same kind of potential that I do, don’t deny it.” Her expression softens as she reaches out to touch his arm. “Let me train with him. Let me help him realize just how much he’s capable of. Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do with him all along?”

Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. The last thing he needs is Overwatch potentially poaching one of his agents. But she’s not wrong exactly. And Jesse does have talent that could go far. As much as Gabriel can teach him about combat, his specialty is short range. Jesse needs a little more distance, and Ana is the best shot in the world. 

“What exactly do you mean by _mentoring him_?”

Ana’s face lights up as though she’s already won him over. She has, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying to look at. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Jesse is in one of the workout rooms when Gabriel finally decides to suck it up and face him a few hours later. The kid is hunched over, practicing his right hook against one of the training dummies. His back is to the door, giving Gabriel a moment to look over his technique.

“Not bad. You should switch to your left more often though. You’ll need it if you’re shooting with your right.”

Jesse punches the dummy harder. “What do you want?”

Gabriel sighs. This will be fun. “To let you know we’re moving bases soon. You’ll need to have everything ready to go by the end of the week. Thought I should give you a heads up.”

“You mean my grand collection of nothing?” Jesse strikes the dummy again. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

There’s an ache starting up in Gabriel’s temple. He rubs at it tiredly. “Your left arm is going to stay weaker if you don’t train it as much as your right.”

Jesse hits with his right again. Little shit.

“We’ll be moving a few hours north of Vancouver. You ever been to Canada before?” 

“You know I haven’t.” Another punch. “Is that your next test? Trying to freeze me to death?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “It’s not nearly as cold as you think. And the west coast there usually rains more than it snows.”

Jesse doesn’t look like he believes him. He still doesn’t switch to his left. 

“The trip will be a few hours. When we touch down you’ll get a new room and schedule. Your school teacher will resume your studies the following week.” Jesse pretends to ignore him, but Gabriel continues anyway. He knows he’s still listening. “It might be a little slower going since you’re ready for actual fieldwork now, but she says she thinks you’ll manage just fine.”

“Does she know you nearly put her out of a job?” Jesse hits the dummy harder, knocking it back a little. “Or would she still wanna teach me while I’m in handcuffs?”

Gabriel doesn’t let himself rise to Jesse’s anger. “She’s aware of potential outcomes for students involved in combat. But no, she didn’t know the specifics of that mission.”

“It wasn’t a mission, it was bullshit!” Jesse shouts, spinning around and glowering at Gabriel. “And you’re a goddamn liar! Twice now!”

“McCree-”

“Fuck off! Harris was right about you!” The kid spits. “I’m just some idiot you get off on manipulating, aren’t I?”

“That’s not how it is at all. Whatever Harris said-”

Jesse turns away again, the cold shoulder returning. “Whatever. Don’t matter no more. He’s gone and I’m still stuck here.”

Gabriel sighs. Why did he think this would be a good idea? “McCree, you’re not-”

“I don’t wanna talk to you anymore. Leave me alone.”

Gabriel reaches out and touches Jesse’s shoulder but the kid shakes him off instantly.

“I said leave me alone!” 

Silently, Gabriel raises his hands in surrender. Jesse turns away quickly, pretending his eyes don’t look wet, and storms out of the training room. 

Goddammit.

  
  


\--

  
  


The move to Canada goes relatively well at least. Gabriel is nothing if not efficient, and by the time the trucks and helicarriers are on the move, every last trace of Blackwatch is gone from the old base.

Jesse still isn’t talking to him. He makes a point of leaving the room when he sees Gabriel enter. That will need to change when they reach the new base, but for now Gabriel doesn’t bother calling him out. 

Instead he has the bright idea to sit the two of them in a nondescript truck together, driving down the desert highway.

“Are we seriously driving all the way there? Can’t the helicarriers make the trip in like… half the time?” Jesse grumbles from the passenger seat after the second hour. It’s the first thing he’s said to Gabriel all day.

“We’re taking a detour. Less suspicious if everyone leaves from different places and times. We’ll get there, don’t worry.”

His eyes are on the road but he can practically hear Jesse’s eyes roll. “Great.”

Gabriel responds by turning on the radio. 

He nearly changes the station when country music starts blasting from the speakers. Gabriel’s not overly fond of last century’s ‘ _Golden Oldies_ ’ but Jesse starts tapping his fingers along to the beat. Gabriel keeps his hands on the wheel. 

“Thought you’d be more of a classic rock fan.”

Jesse shrugs. “It’s alright. I like this more though.” He turns and stares out the window, apparently remembering that he doesn’t want to talk to Gabriel. Still, his fingers keep tapping, lessening the sullen effect. 

Over the next couple hours Gabriel sits through Marty, Patsy, and Willie without complaint, along with several others he’s sure he’s heard at some point while visiting his grandparents. It’s not completely terrible. But even Gabriel’s patience has a limit and it’s name is Loretta Lynn. Thankfully even Jesse seems glad to escape her when they reach a recharge station. It’s a relief to know he has _some_ taste.

It’s a small town in New Mexico they’ve stopped in, maybe just barely considered a city. A service omnic recharges the truck for them while Gabriel pays at the monitor. Jesse, eager to stretch his legs walks over to the edge of the lot. When Gabriel looks over, he catches him staring at a banner strung up over main street. _County Rodeo_ is spelled out in bright, blocky red letters. According to the dates written underneath, they’ve come right in the middle of it. 

“Want to check it out?” Gabriel finds himself asking before he can really think about it. 

Jesse spins around to face him, surprised. He frowns, but not before Gabriel catches the flicker of interest in the kid’s eyes. “Thought we were in a hurry. Y’know. _Driving to Canada._ ”

It’s not a no. 

“The new base isn’t going anywhere. Besides, we’re ahead of schedule anyway.” Gabriel shoves his wallet back into his pocket and starts walking back to the truck. It takes a second, but Jesse follows. One look at his face and it’s easy to see the kid is having a hard time choosing whether or not he wants to be excited or keep holding on to his earlier sour mood.

He settles on stubborn silence while Gabriel looks up the location of the rodeo and starts driving. It only lasts until they reach the parking lot of the venue. There are a lot more vehicles that Gabriel would have expected, and people around them are dressed to the nines in western wear as they walk towards the main gates of the fairgrounds. A couple horses are being led around to a side entrance and Jesse audibly gasps when he sees them. 

“Probably for a show later. They might have more inside,” Gabriel comments as they close the doors of the truck. 

Jesse walks a little faster toward the doors. It’s funny, Gabriel doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen the kid so excited about anything. He files it away in his brain for later. 

Admission is cheap at least. Good ol’ small town events. He and Jesse get little red stamps on the backs of their hands, tiny blotchy horseshoes that bleed into their skin, and already Gabriel can see that Jesse’s mood is lifting fast. 

The fairgrounds smell like dirt and manure, but Jesse doesn’t seem bothered by it. Instead his eyes are wide and excited as they walk past food stalls and local vendors set up in tightly packed rows. Beyond that is a wide, fenced off arena where a middle aged man is doing his best to stay seated on an angry looking bull.

There’s bleachers set up for the audience nearby. Gabriel has to nudge Jesse to get his attention and thankfully they find seats that give a decent view of the ring. By the time they sit down another bull is already sending its rider flying high while the audience gasps. 

An announcer reads off the man’s time and name over a loudspeaker while the bull is roped and led away. Jesse looks completely enraptured, and Gabriel figures the kid won’t hold it against him if he leaves for a moment to grab them a snack. Sure enough, when he comes back with a bag of popcorn and a couple cans of soda, Jesse is wearing a big grin and cheering as the latest challenger manages to stay seated well past the record, despite the bull’s best attempts to throw him. Gabriel holds the bag out to him and Jesse digs his hand in without hesitation.

A few more riders come out and then there’s a lull in the ring. The announcer names the winner of the day, and then several cowgirls ride out on beautiful horses, showing off a little synchronized number. Barrells are set up and then the girls come out one by one on their horses, doing their best to ride around the obstacles as fast as they can. 

“They’re beautiful,” Jesse notes as young woman expertly leads her ebony horse around the third barrell and dashes for the finish line. 

Gabriel hums. “Shouldn’t be surprised you’re into cowgirls I guess.” They are all quite pretty, he has to admit.

Jesse steals the bag of popcorn from his hands and sticks his tongue out. “I meant the horses.” He looks out at the ring again, smiling as he watches the next horse and rider run. “I never seen ‘em up close before. Just on TV and in a field once when I was on the bus. They’re a lot bigger than I thought.”

Gabriel’s never really given much thought to it. “My niece used to ride them. Guess I’ve never thought about how different they might seem in real life compared to movies.”

“Man, that’d be something. I always wondered what it’d be like to ride.” Jesse claps with the crowd in sympathy as the next contender bumps against the first barrell accidentally. “My ma used to call me her little cowboy, you know? I remember I used to have a rocking horse, think I broke it I played on it so much.” He laughs a little, pausing to sip from his soda can. “Not exactly the real deal, but I remember always wanting to ride a real one someday.”

It must have been a really good memory if Jesse can remember something that long ago, Gabriel thinks.

“Maybe someday you will. Who knows.”

“Well, this is good for now.” Jesse glances over at Gabriel shrewdly. “Even if I am still mad at you.”

Gabriel only nods. It’s not like he actually thought he could bribe Jesse into just forgiving and forgetting everything anyway. 

Jesse shrugs. “But still, this weird apology trip of yours might work a little better if I had more popcorn.” He crinkles up the empty bag and smirks. “Just sayin’.”

Snorting, Gabriel stands up. By the time the show ends, they’ve eaten their way through two more bags and a small bucket of mini donuts.

The next event is some local singing competition. Gabriel doesn’t move at first, but silently breathes a sigh of relief when Jesse stands up, obviously uninterested. Instead Gabriel follows alongside him as they wander down the aisles of vendor’s stalls outside, politely looking over homemade jewelry and candles. 

It’s all horribly kitsch and ugly in Gabriel’s opinion, but Jesse looks happy just to be looking so he keeps his mouth shut. 

He accidentally bumps into him when they reach the end of the aisle. An older man with an impressive grey moustache stands next to several racks of cowboy hats, perking up as he notices Jesse’s interest. 

“Hey Reyes,” Jesse murmurs as he stares down an earthy brown leather hat. “I’m working for you now, right?”

Gabriel hums in affirmation. 

“Like, legit work? All official with paperwork and everything?”

Gabriel nods slowly, unsure of where Jesse is going with this. “Yes…?”

“So that means you gotta pay me at some point, don’t it?” Jesse turns to look up at him, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, I am an _official_ agent now, right? There’s gotta be some extra benefits there.”

“Excuse you, I believe the benefit is you aren’t in jail right now.”

McCree raises an eyebrow, unimpressed as he shoots Gabriel a look only a teenager could master.

They stare each other down for a grand total of ten seconds, but they needn’t have bothered. Both of them already know Jesse is going to be walking out with one of those god awful hats on his head. Huffing, Gabriel pulls out his wallet again.

“Consider it an advance. Just this once.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Jesse grins, already turning back to strike up a conversation with the vendor.

“See anything you like, son?” the man asks, gesturing to the display. 

Jesse’s expression easily slides into a casual smile while he looks over the various racks.

“All of it looks mighty fine, mister. Don’t think I’ve ever seen so many cool hats all in one place before.”

The vendor chuckles and nods, oblivious to Gabriel’s silent critique of his denim on denim wardrobe. “Every man should have a good cowboy hat, you know. I only sell the finest here, they’ll last you a lifetime. Twenty years from now you’d still feel as comfortable wearing the same one as today.”

“That a fact?” Jesse comments, reaching out and running his fingers over the brim of an earthy brown leather one. “That’s experience talking I take it?”

The man laughs and tips the brim of his own garish white hat. “Absolutely. Been sellin’ ‘em for years and not once had an unsatisfied customer. Even city folk like your friend here haven’t given me no complaints.” He winks at Gabriel, much to Jesse’s amusement.

“Hear that, Reyes? Maybe you should get one too. That black one there looks like it’d suit you perfect!”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Jesse continues chatting the man up some more, and Gabriel has to give the kid some credit, he convinces the guy to offer him a decently lower price than what’s displayed on the tag. The tactician in Gabriel makes a note of it for future reference. Negotiations aren’t exactly his strong suit, it’s good to know that Jesse might be able to pick up the slack in that department.

Sure enough, by the time they’re done exploring and back in the truck, Jesse is sporting a brand new leather cowboy hat on his head. 

It looks good on him, Gabriel thinks. Really good.

  
  


\--

  
  


“This is some damn fine coffee, holy shit.” Jesse licks his lips as he stares into the diner mug. Like Gabriel he’s loaded his cup with cream and sugar, though even Gabriel thinks five packets is a bit much. “The stuff at the Panorama always tasted like boiled dirt no matter what I put in it.”

“Drink up then, menu said free refills.” Gabriel glances at the clock on the wall. They’ve still got lots of time until they have to be at the rendezvous point. 

Jesse hums in acknowledgement. Neither of them says anything for a moment. In the background Gabriel hears plates and silverware clanking together while the other patrons of the diner chat amongst themselves. The easy listening radio station plays some top forty hit on little speakers in the corners of the room. It’s so mundane compared to what his usual schedule is like. It’s kind of nice. 

“Hey Reyes. Can I ask you something?” Jesse pipes up, breaking the uneventful moment. 

“What, you wanna know if you’re covered for dental too?”

“Hardy har.” Jesse rolls his eyes. “I’m serious.” 

Smirking, Gabriel nods. “Go on, then.”

Jesse’s teeth dig into his lower lip for a brief second. Nerves, it looks like. “Why’d you bring me here?”

Gabriel takes a sip of his own coffee. “Because despite all that garbage we ate, we were still hungry? Trust me, after a few missions eating nothing but regulation protein bars, you’ll understand.”

Jesse huffs, annoyed. “I mean why’d you bring me _here_. To this town, on this trip.” Gabriel opens his mouth but Jesse cuts him off quickly. “I know we all had to split up the evacuation to keep suspicion down but you didn’t bring any of your other agents with you. Just me. Why?”

Clever. Always so clever. Gabriel’s annoyed and proud at the same time. He sets his mug down.

“Because despite your best attempts to avoid me, we need to hammer out some issues between us.” Immediately, Jesse’s cheeks flush pink and he starts to scowl. Gabriel keeps going before the kid can say anything. “And you were right, this was all I could think of as an apology for now.”

Jesse blinks, caught off guard. Gabriel takes it as a cue to continue.

“The things you’ve been through… it’s more than what a lot of my current agents would have been able to handle at your age.” The air in the diner seems heavier as Jesse stares at him. Uncomfortable, Gabriel tugs off his beanie and pushes his short hair back, sweat wiping onto his palm. He swallows, but the lump in his throat stays in place.

“Sometimes…” He grunts. Talking about stuff like this is Ana’s strong suit, not his. Still. It’s for Jesse. He owes it to the kid to try. “Sometimes I have to do things I don’t always agree with. But for the good of my team, I do them.” He clenches his fist. Just thinking of Petras and the other UN associates gets his blood pressure rising. “The ends justify the means. That’s what I tell myself. I can usually believe it after awhile. But with you...” he trails off, unsure how to end that thought. 

“You’re a good kid, McCree. If things were a little different, I’d let you start over again in a town like this. Maybe help you get a place to live, a civilian job, the whole works.”

“White picket fence?” Jesse murmurs sarcastically. 

Gabriel huffs in amusement. “Sure. Maybe a dog too.” His smile drops as he stares into his half empty coffee mug. He’s still Jesse’s superior. He can’t be his friend. Not right now. 

He lifts his head up to look the kid in the eyes. “But right now, I am still your Commanding Officer. And like it or not, we are going to have to work together for quite some time. That will require you staying in the same room as me for more than five seconds, and listening to me when I tell you to do something. You can be as pissed off at me as you want while you do it, but I still need to know you can be professional when it comes down to it. If not, then we have a problem. So can you?”

He can tell Jesse instinctively wants to argue for a second. Thankfully, the waitress comes back with their food, interrupting the moment and giving Jesse a little time to calm down as she sets their plates in front of them.

As she leaves, Jesse reluctantly pokes at his burger and frowns. “I can. Be professional I mean.” He looks over at Gabriel’s steak, then up to Gabriel himself. “And I guess I can forgive you. For the-” he waves his hand nonchalantly “-the past bullshit. Just promise me one thing, will you?”

“What’s that?” Gabriel asks. 

“No more lies,” Jesse answers. “You’re supposed to be my Commander? Fine. Then as your subordinate, I wanna be able to trust you. No more tricks and tests. I ain’t never lied to you, it’d be nice if you did the same to me for once.” 

Jesse nearly manages to hide the tinge of hurt in his voice at the end. Gabriel can only nod. 

“Alright. No more lies.”

“I mean it, Reyes.” Jesse insists. There’s no escaping the hard edge in his brown eyes. “From now on, you’re honest with me about everything. No matter how shitty it is. No matter how unpleasant, I wanna know.”

“You will.”

It’s Jesse’s turn to nod. He seems a little surprised by Gabriel’s easy agreement, but pretends not to be. “Good. That’s good.” He clears his throat. “Because next time I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive you so easily. No matter how many hats you buy me.”

It’s an opening Gabriel takes without thinking. “Not even if I throw in some boots and spurs?”

Jesse’s eyes widen. Instantly Gabriel regrets opening his mouth. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. _Damn it_ , things were finally starting to look up and then he had to go and--

“Chaps too?”

He can’t help it, Gabriel snorts out a laugh. When he looks, Jesse is grinning at him from across the table. 

“Just sayin’, could be a good look for the team.”

Mood lifted at last, Gabriel smiles and picks up his fork and knife while Jesse starts carefully plucking slices of pickles off his burger. “I’ll think about it,” he says.

  
  


\--

  
  


Hours later, long after the bill has been paid and the truck is moving back on the highway, Jesse dozes quietly, cheek pressed up against the window. The sun has long since set, and no moon hangs in the sky to offer even the slightest bit of reflected light. 

Gabriel stares ahead, both hands on the wheel as the truck’s high beams shine a path through the darkness ahead. In the quiet of the cab, Johnny Cash plays hauntingly over the radio. 

_You can run on for a long time. Sooner or later God’ll cut you down_ , Johnny sings as Gabriel drives on through the growing darkness. Without Jesse awake to distract him, his mind wanders.

He thinks of five faces staring back at him from mugshots. Thinks of five bodies he’d visited in the Blackwatch morgue. 

Thinks of the bright flames consuming each of them, one after another while he stood and watched.

_Sooner or later, God’ll cut you down_.

In the passenger seat, Jesse sleeps on peacefully.

  
  



	5. The Chain Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years later, things have changed and yet still stayed the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: murder via strangulation (extremely minor characters), blood, violence, smoking
> 
> Thank you to Alex and Mo-Mouse/Evi for beta reading, y'all are the bomb.

_Six Years Later_

  
  


\--

  
  


“Mainframe should be in the room at the end of the next hallway. Status?”

Jesse’s hands loosen around the garrote wire. “Almost there,” he answers calmly as the body of the patrol guard drops to the floor. Nearby he can hear the other agents cleaning up similar problems. 

Captain Larson’s voice has an impatient tinge to it when he speaks over the comms next. “Hurry it up, McCree. Need I remind you this is a time sensitive issue?”

“Not to worry, Captain. We’ll have what we need before the security feed comes back online,” Jesse answers cheerfully while stepping over the corpse on the floor. “Just keep that helicarrier warm for us, we’ll be there soon.”

Larson grunts, annoyed. “Report back in five minutes. Over.”

Jesse rolls his eyes as he moves toward the door of the control room. Lu is already in the process of opening the door, but she spares him a sympathetic look while she punches in the passcode. 

“What an asshole.”

Jesse shrugs, a silent _what can you do_? “Assholes get shit moving I guess.”

Lu snorts and pushes the door open. Immediately she heads towards the main console and gets to work pulling up the blueprints of some dangerous, expensive, extremely _illegal_ weapons that would definitely cause Overwatch some major problems in the near future. While she works on copying all the data, Jesse scopes out the room for any other potential interests while Burke and Sutherland keep guard outside. The rest are probably already readying the building for their exit with the explosives. 

By the looks of it, Lu’s already got the blueprints downloaded and is on to the list of clients and employees involved in the whole operation when Jesse pauses his search to admire a cheap plastic cactus sitting on a desk near the back of the room. 

“Careful, security can be pretty tight in data centers like these,” Lu notes as Jesse reaches for it, keeping her eyes on her own screen.

“Just admiring the decor,” Jesse says, grinning as he picks up the little knick knack. If only he had a car. He’s pretty sure it would look great on the dashboard. 

Too bad he hears something move around inside the little toy when he lifts it. Jesse sighs. Oh well. Not like he’ll ever have a vehicle of his own anyway. Trying not to feel too disappointed about it, he breaks the green cactus part off from it’s cheaply painted base and shakes the hidden contents into his palm. 

A small USB practically smiles up at him, an unexpected surprise. It’s no cactus but Jesse knows a gift for the commander when he sees it. He’s not quite sure what could be on it other than some worker bee’s secret porn collection, but at least that could be good for a laugh. He silently slips it into his pocket for safekeeping. 

Having found one secret, Jesse quickly and carefully gives the room one more sweep but this time without anything to show for it. Meanwhile Lu ejects her own little device from the computer, plugs in another, and hums as she promptly gets to work on internally destroying everything in the data center. 

As soon as she’s done and all the screens in the room turn blue and black, they head back out into the hall and up the stairs towards the roof. Jesse takes care to step over the fallen bodies of unlucky guards and employees, occasional pools of blood, and especially the runoff from R&D’s latest flammable liquid the other agents had been dumping all over the place. 

On the roof, the helicarrier’s ladder is already deployed and waiting for them to climb into the sky. One by one they pull themselves up. Once the last person (Jesse, naturally) is inside Larson finally gives the signal to get the hell out. Jesse’s barely got his seat buckle snapped in place when the first explosion goes off, followed by a symphony of others. He peeks out the window to see the show, whistling at the sight of it as they hastily make their escape. 

“Quite the fireworks display. A little much though, ain’t it?” 

“We can’t risk anything being salvaged here. Commander Reyes’ orders,” Larson snaps. “And don’t think I won’t inform him about you dawdling about, McCree. This mission should have been finished much sooner than it was, and I know you in particular took your time getting to the control room.”

“Maybe that’s true, but Commander Reyes also specifically said no gunfire. Sorry to inform you, but it does take a few seconds longer to strangle someone than to shoot them, Captain.” Jesse smiles sweetly, watching the vein on Larson’s forehead get just a little more prominent. “But mission’s done and successful. Let’s sit back and relax a little before we get back to Zurich, yeah?”

Larson shoots him a dirty look and huffs. “Your report better be extremely detailed, McCree. I’ll be looking over it with a fine toothed comb.”

“You still carry a comb around with you, Captain? Is that really necessary?” Jesse asks, letting his eyes flick over the man’s receding blonde hairline.

Larson looks ready to throw Jesse out of the transport if he says one more word, but thankfully his comm beeps and he settles for a simple murderous glare as he answers and turns his head away. 

The others snicker and Jesse spares them a wink before leaning back and closing his eyes. Might as well try to sleep while he can before they touch down at base.

  
  


\--

  
  


When he drops the mission report on Larson’s desk hours later, the Captain doesn’t even bother to look up at him. Jesse’s hard work that needed to be handed in ‘ _as soon as possible_ ’ probably won’t get more than a quick skim from him, despite his earlier complaints. _Asshole._

On the bright side, the Zurich base is one of his favourites. If Jesse has to deal with the Captain’s bullshit, at least he can deal with it among friends. The base is the biggest hub Overwatch has, and it’s one of the few places that Blackwatch actually interacts face to face with members of the other divisions.

Immediately after leaving Larson’s office, Jesse heads to the food court. The other members in his squad had gone earlier while he’d been writing up his report. They’d offered to wait for him, but he’d assured them he’d be fine. Judging by how fast they’d accepted his reply and left, he’s pretty sure they were just being polite anyway.

Sure enough as soon as he gets his food and steps into the table area, a familiar booming voice calls out to him from across the large court.

“Jesse!” Reinhardt shouts jovially, startling several nearby tables as he waves his massive arm in the air to get Jesse’s attention. “Over here, come sit with us!” Beside him sits Torbjorn, rolling his eyes but smiling nonetheless.

“It has been too long my friend! How did your last mission go?” Reinhardt asks cheerfully as Jesse sets his tray down and sits across from Overwatch’s resident gentle giant.

“Went off without a hitch, thanks for asking. How’ve you been, big guy?” Jesse asks back while he starts digging into his food.

“Oh same old, same old. You know me, nothing to worry about!”

Beside Reinhardt, Torbjorn scoffs, setting his mug down. “Nothing for _you_ to worry about, you mean. Do you know how long it took to get those dents out of your armour from that last mission? And don’t even get me started on the state of your hammer!”

“Battle scars! They make her look beautiful!”

Jesse laughs as the two men start to bicker lightly. While the two of them had been initially hesitant to speak to him years ago, they’d warmed up to Jesse sooner rather than later. Of all the members of Overwatch aside from Ana, Jesse likes them the most. 

“By the way, those modifications you put on our guns have been real helpful so far, Torb. Think the whole team wanted to kiss you after that mission in Lijiang last week,” Jesse says, breaking up the little spat on the other side of the table.

Torbjorn grins and takes another swig from his drink. “I’m glad they didn’t, but that’s good to hear. Reyes should have let me take a look at your equipment much sooner though. The last thing anyone needs is some poor fool’s gun jamming at a critical moment.”

Jesse shrugs. “To be fair he did want it done earlier but I guess Commander Morrison didn’t see the request the first time he sent it.” Or he saw it and forgot about it. Jesse’s pretty sure he knows which option is correct.

“Well, Jack is a busy man,” Reinhardt reasons, shooting Jesse a sympathetic smile. “How is Commander Reyes by the way? Was he on your mission too?”

Jesse shakes his head, speaking between bites. “Nah, he was taking care of something in Venice. I was in Berlin. He’ll probably be here soon though, pretty sure we’re all taking the same flight back to Blackwatch HQ in a few days.”

“Wonderful! It’s been too long since I’ve seen him, we will need to share some drinks together! All of us!” Reinhardt’s loud voice draws more than a couple stares their way, but Jesse ignores them all and laughs. 

“I’ll pass that along to him. Sounds mighty fine, sir.”

“Always so polite, see? Just as Ana says!” Reinhardt nudges Torbjorn before turning back to Jesse. “She is here as well you know! And little Fareeha! They’ll be heartbroken if you don’t at least stop to say hello.” The big man pauses a moment to look around, then leans in conspiratorially. “You know, Captain Amari’s birthday is coming up in a few months. I’m sure it would make her day if you and Commander Reyes managed to show up to surprise her.”

“That so?” Jesse asks as if he didn’t already know Ana’s birthday by heart or have her present already wrapped and hidden back home. “Well I’m sure me and the Commander can figure something out.”

Reinhardt beams at him. “We’ll all look forward to it. Still, make sure you see her before you leave.”

Jesse nods, finishing up the last few bites of his meal. “I’ll be sure to do that, thanks.” He sets his dishes carefully on his tray and rises. “Hope you don’t mind fellas, but before that I’m about to fall asleep any second here. Breakfast tomorrow? We can catch up some more, share some embarrassing stories about our commanders.”

Both men laugh and nod their heads in agreement, bidding Jesse farewell as he waves, sets his tray at the drop off station, and heads toward the exit of the large room.

He only has to walk down the halls for about ten minutes before he’s nearly knocked over from behind. Instinct nearly makes him try to throw whoever’s attacking him over his shoulder, but at the last second he recognizes the sturdy body squeezing their arms around him tightly. 

“Nice try Jesse!” Fareeha says, grinning ear to ear as she clings to him. “Your squadmates told me you were here. You didn’t think you could sneak by without a rematch, did you?”

Jesse playfully shoves her, grateful to feel his arms again as she lets go of him. He takes a moment to look her over, surprised as always at how much she’s grown since he last saw her. Especially in her biceps. No wonder he was still shaking his arms to get feeling back in them. “Maybe. You really think you can beat the best yet?”

Fareeha rolls her eyes. “Second best. Mom’s still number one.”

“Best in Blackwatch, then.”

She smirks, setting her hands on her hips confidently. “That title might be hard to keep. I’ll have you know I knocked your high score out of the park last week.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh.”

Despite feeling as though he’s running on fumes, Jesse matches Fareeha’s sly smirk. He gestures to the hallway. “Well now. By all means, lead the way to the shooting range. Let’s get this little mistake fixed then.”

“Hope you’re still hungry because you’re about to eat your words.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Breathing a sigh of relief, Jesse grins lazily toward Fareeha and tips his hat as their scores flash on the central monitor. Despite his exhaustion from being awake for so long, his shiny second place record is still intact. Doubled, in fact. But he has to admit that Fareeha’s come a long way since they last challenged each other.

“You had me pretty scared there for a minute. Way to keep me on my toes,” Jesse teases as he hangs up his tac vest and dissembles his training gun. 

“One of these days, Jesse. I’m gonna beat you eventually, just you wait and see!” She scowls as she puts away her gear as well. “Mom will be glad to see you’re still improving at least.”

“Yeah, where is she anyway? Reinhardt mentioned the both of you were here when I talked to him earlier.”

Fareeha nods. “She just got back from a mission a few hours before you got here. She’s sleeping it off, but she’ll probably want you over for tea soon.”

“Can’t rightly pass up that opportunity, can I?” Ana makes the best tea in the world after all. Some of Jesse’s best memories are from mealtimes with her after long training sessions in the firing range.

Fareeha rolls her eyes at him, but smiles. “It’s good to see you again. I missed you, you know.”

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Jesse reaches out and ruffles her hair, much to Fareeha’s displeasure. Can’t have the moment getting too sappy after all. 

They head out as more people start trickling into the training facility, neither of them particularly fond of strangers. As they walk, Fareeha updates Jesse on things he’s missed at the Zurich base. Topics include new recruits, the latest hot gossip about certain captains and commanders, and some personal updates about her and her mother’s quarrel on whether she should go to university or not. 

“You should hear some of the things she suggested I major in, it’s so-” Fareeha cuts herself off as they round the corner and nearly knock a woman on the other side over by accident. 

“Oh crap, sorry! Wasn’t watching where I was going!” Fareeha apologizes profusely while Jesse bends down to pick up the woman’s dropped tablet. The smile on his face freezes as he offers it back to her.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Doctor Ziegler. She’s never been rude or mean to him, exactly. Yet despite being the same age as Jesse, there’s always been a sort of cold distance between them that doesn’t seem to be between her and her other patients. As if to prove his point, Angela’s eyes seem to harden slightly when she recognizes Jesse. 

“I hope it’s not scratched or anything. I’m so sorry, Angela!” Fareeha says, blatantly embarrassed. Awkward moment interrupted, Angela breaks eye contact with Jesse and rises back up to her feet.

“It’s fine,” the Doctor says, carefully taking her tablet from Jesse’s hands. “Nothing to worry about. I should have been paying more attention as well.”

“Still. Apologies, ma’am.” Jesse tips his hat only slightly enjoying the way Angela’s lips purse in displeasure. 

“As I said, it’s fine.” She turns to Fareeha, expression immediately softening. “I apologize as well. I was caught up looking at my screen instead of what was in front of me.”

There’s a moment where the two of them go back and forth with apologies, trying to make sure the other person was actually okay. It’s a little uncomfortable to watch, and Jesse shifts awkwardly on his feet while he waits for them to finish and move on. 

“Oh, that reminds me. Reinhardt was looking for you just now, Fareeha. Something about gifts for your mother’s birthday I believe?”

Fareeha snorts, shaking her head. “Ugh. He’s hopeless. He probably needs advice again.” She turns to Jesse, smiling apologetically. “I need to find him before he buys her something hideous and too expensive online again. See me before you leave?”

“You know it.” Jesse winks and waves to her as she quickly hugs him and takes off back the way they’d came. 

“She’s quite fond of you, isn’t she?” Angela asks as Fareeha disappears from view.

“I’m pretty fond of her too,” he answers, keeping his tone light. “She’s a good kid.”

“Indeed. With a bright future ahead.” 

Jesse’s pretty sure there’s some implied comment aimed at him in there, but he doesn’t push it. “Well doc, I’ll just be goin’-”

“You did not come to the medical wing after your last mission, Agent McCree.” Angela frowns, glancing over her tablet. “May I ask why?”

Jesse scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t think it was necessary. None of us came into any enemy fire or suffered any injuries after all.”

“Perhaps not, but Commander Reyes has stated numerous times that his agents are to report to medical within six hours of returning from enemy lines. By the look of the return logs you’re about…” She looks back up at him. “Four hours overdue.”

Jesse sighs, shoulders sagging. “Look, I had to write this bullshit report for Larson and I hadn’t had anything to eat since before we left, and now-”

“From what I’ve seen, Commander Reyes isn’t one for excuses, and to be honest, neither am I. It’s important for everyone on base that you report to medical when you return from missions. You can’t slack on this.”

“I wasn’t-” he bites his lip and huffs. “Okay. You’re right. My bad, won’t happen again. But I swear, I didn’t encounter anything that you should be concerned about. Didn’t get a scratch on me. Can we please let this slide? I’ve been awake for almost forty hours and I’m exhausted.” He shoots the most charming smile he can muster toward her. “Pretty please?”

If his charm works on her, she doesn’t show it. She just gives him her usual cold stare and lowers her tablet. 

“Follow the rules next time, Agent McCree.” Without another word, she walks briskly past him. 

He adjusts his hat and leaves in the opposite direction. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The stars are out in full force that night. Jesse picks out several constellations as he lies on his back, hat on the ground beside him and smoke drifting up from his lips. 

The roof is technically off limits, but he’s snuck up so many times throughout the years that eventually Gabriel just gave him an access key. If anyone else knew about it, they might call it favouritism but Jesse’s kept their little secret safe. Not even Fareeha knows about his private cooldown spot. 

He thinks Gabriel understands though. He was undercover in Deadlock long enough, he probably remembers how beautiful the sky looked from the gorge. For Jesse, it’s a little reminder of home. The better parts of it at least. 

The roof is also the only place on the Zurich base that no one comes to bother him. Back at Blackwatch HQ people know well enough when to give him space, but Zurich has three times as many active agents wandering around. It’s too much sometimes, especially when he needs a moment to himself. 

His cigarette is almost finished when the access doors slide open a few feet away. Jesse doesn’t bother turning his head, he knows who it is. He smiles up at the night sky. 

“How’d it go?” he asks cheerfully.

Gabriel groans, stepping closer and dropping down to sit beside him. A cigarette of his own dangles between his lips. Ziegler would have a fit. “The new recruits are not nearly as clever as they think they are, let’s leave it at that.” He digs in his pockets and must come up empty by the way scowls and shuts his eyes, huffing in annoyance. “Got a light?”

Jesse passes over his cheap little lighter and digs out another cigarette for himself. It’s not often the two of them get a chance to share their vice, and Jesse doesn’t mind poisoning himself a little more to get a few minutes alone with his commander. Some things never change, after all.

Gabriel’s shoulders visibly relax as he exhales a cloud of smoke, handing Jesse his lighter back. “And you? How’d your mission go?”

Jesse shrugs, lighting up again. He shoves the bic in his pocket. “Went off without a hitch. Larson’s probably gonna complain about me taking too long though, fair warning.”

“And why would he do that?” Gabriel asks, arching an eyebrow. The curve of his mouth says he’s amused at least. 

“Didn’t wanna draw blood. Some of the others did, but you said keep it clean. I did my part.” He waits until Gabriel takes another drag. “Found something by the way.”

The commander looks over at him again. “Oh?”

Jesse sits up and reaches into his breast pocket to pull out the little USB he’d found earlier. “Was hidden at one of the desks in the data center. Could be something. Could also be some pencil pusher’s amateur sex tape. Either way, I figure it’s better to give it to you than Larson.”

“Hmm. He _is_ picky about production values,” Gabriel says in a deadpan voice, extending his hand to let Jesse drop the USB into his palm. “Whatever it is, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, boss.” Jesse stretches onto his back again, peering at Gabriel from the corner of his eye. Even annoyed and exhausted, the commander still looks hot as hell. Jesse wonders if he’ll take the beanie off again tonight and give him a nice view of those close-cropped curls. 

The beanie stays on, sadly. Next time maybe. 

They smoke together for a couple minutes, enjoying the relative silence of the rooftop. Jesse could fall asleep then and there if it didn’t mean missing out on admiring how good his boss looks in moonlight. 

“Dr. Ziegler informed me you skipped your medical check in. Want to tell me why?”

Jesse scrunches his nose. “Slipped my mind. I had a bunch of other stuff to do. Told her I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Words I’m sure you’re determined to keep,” Gabriel teases. “Look, I know it’s a pain in the ass but it’s just protocol to make sure nothing gets brought back to infect everyone on base.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse rolls his eyes. “The good doctor mentioned something like that between her many cold stares.”

Gabriel grunts, looking back out at the grounds below. “Don’t be too harsh on her. She just isn’t sure how to handle Blackwatch agents. Her work is all about saving lives. Ours tends to focus on ending them.”

Jesse flicks ash onto the ground beside him. “I guess.” He exhales, watching the smoke drift up and disappear into the stars. “We heading back soon?”

Gabriel nods. “Day after tomorrow, 0500. Don’t forget it.”

“Like I’d wanna miss it and get stuck here with Morrison.”

“Neither of you would survive that,” Reyes scoffs. “I know you don’t like each other but he’s still the Strike Commander. You have to listen to him when he tells you to do something.”

“Even if it sounds like a stupid idea?”

“Especially if it sounds like a stupid idea. That’s how you keep both our jobs uncomplicated, got it?”

Jesse sighs dramatically, tapping off more ash. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“Besides, he’s not so bad. Lets himself get caught up in the red tape and politics bullshit too much, but he does his best.” Sending Reyes a cheeky grin, Jesse shifts onto his side to get a better look at him. “Right. I’ll remind you about that next time you’re bitching about our budget.”

Reyes chuckles a little and the sound of it warms Jesse to the core. “Smartass.”

“Better than a dumbass.”

The commander looks away but not before Jesse sees the smile still on his face. They sit in comfortable silence for a few more minutes until eventually Reyes slowly stands up again. 

“Remember. Day after tomorrow, 0500. Don’t be late.”

Jesse yawns. “I never am. Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

Reyes nods. “Goodnight, McCree.”

“G’night, Commander.” Jesse mock salutes him as Reyes walks back inside, the door sliding closed behind him.

His cigarette has long since burned down to the filter, so he tosses it off into space, not bothering to see where it lands. He stares up at the glowing moon and stars for just a little longer until at last, he grabs his hat and stands up to head back inside.

Thankfully no one else bothers him on his way to the Blackwatch wing of the dorms. He steps into his temporary room without interruption or hassle, and sighs as he locks the door. He kicks off his boots, sets his hat on the dresser, and slowly strips down until he stands alone in his underwear. The fatigue Jesse’s been doing his best to ignore since the end of his last mission suddenly overwhelms him and it’s all he can do to try keeping his eyes open.

Falling onto the bed, he somehow manages to squirm in between the sheets, grateful for the soft feel of them against his naked skin. 

He thinks again of Reyes in the stars and moonlight, laughing while smoke drifted up from his lips. Closing his eyes, Jesse slowly reaches a hand between his legs, gently palming at his groin. They were sitting closer together this time, he’s certain of it. Jesse could have reached out and touched his hand easily. Maybe, just maybe, Gabriel would have let him. 

With that thought and the commander’s face in the front of Jesse’s mind, he slips his hand under his boxer briefs and closes his eyes. 

He falls asleep almost instantly. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The second they touch back down at Blackwatch HQ in Canada, a familiar sense of relief takes hold of Jesse. The same happens to Reyes too, he’s sure of it from the tiny changes he notices in the commander’s posture. 

Unlike the Swiss base, Jesse actually knows almost everyone back home. Newer agents and recruits talk to him with a sense of respect he’s never experienced anywhere else. Even the senior agents seem to think somewhat highly of him from what he can tell.

The interior of the building is a lot less shiny and much smaller than Overwatch’s Zurich base, but the comfortable familiarity makes it ten times better in Jesse’s opinion. After six years of calling it home, he feels much more at ease in Blackwatch HQ’s halls than anywhere else. 

Walking through the base, Jesse smiles, waves, and salutes to just about every face he passes and he’s not ashamed to admit he likes it when they all return the favour. A couple newer recruits stop him to ask how his mission went, along with some questions about some training classes that they’re obviously too embarrassed to bring up to Reyes or Larson. He answers them with an easy smile, and they seem satisfied enough. They thank him and scurry away as one of the senior agents runs up to him to ask for assistance looking over a mission report later. 

That’s not to say he gets along with _everyone._ There are still a good chunk of agents that seem to resent the fact that Jesse has come so far in only a few years. He still gets a few glares and passive aggressive comments from Larson’s cronies, as well as other agents jealous of Jesse’s easy rapport with the commander. To them, he just smiles sweetly and keeps their names and faces in the back of his brain. 

By the time his first day back ends, Jesse’s approved several meetings between Blackwatch agents and Commander Reyes, covered leading three combat training sessions; one hand to hand and two in firearms, caught himself up on a few security updates that happened while he was gone, and finished it all by signing off on booking the event room for Agent Cohen’s birthday the following week. 

Obviously he makes sure to pass the more important things onto Reyes via e-mail, but he’s gotten used to figuring out what’s important enough to warrant the commander’s personal attention, and what will only make the man’s workload bigger. He doesn’t mind easing some of the stress, and Reyes has told him multiple times in the past that he appreciates it. 

The only person who remains unimpressed is Captain Larson, but only because half the things Jesse does are technically _his_ job. Still, Jesse figures if it was really so annoying, the captain would just do them himself.

He’s helping out with inventory in the armory a few days later when his comm goes off to alert him to an urgent meeting. Jesse has just barely enough time to finish up and put everything away before he heads out to the boardroom. 

He’s a little surprised to see a much smaller crowd than usual when he arrives. He recognizes Reyes and Larson easily along with some other Blackwatch agents, but there’s an unfamiliar pair sitting near the head of the table that Jesse can’t quite place. The man with the thin moustache looks a little familiar. Overwatch maybe, but the woman sitting beside him is a mystery. 

She must notice his stare because before Jesse can look away, she meets his eye and smiles politely. 

Embarrassed for being caught, Jesse coughs and looks away just as the lights dim and Reyes walks to the front of the room next to the monitor on the wall. Silence quickly falls over the room as the commander begins. 

“It should go without saying, but the contents of this meeting are strictly confidential. Only the people in this room and Strike Commander Morrison need to know the details discussed here.” He looks between them all, silently confirming everyone’s silence on the matter. 

“Four days ago, a Blackwatch team headed by Captain Larson was dispatched to Berlin on a mission to uncover illegal black market weapon sales and manufacturing. That mission was a success.” A few heads nod in approval towards Larson. 

“However,” Reyes continues “Before clearing out the data centre the team had infiltrated, a vital clue leading to a much bigger case was uncovered. Both Blackwatch and Overwatch have been working on it for years without much headway, but thanks to Agent McCree we believe our luck is finally turning around.”

Jesse tries his best to conceal his own surprise when everyone turns their attention to him. Thankfully Reyes steals their focus back quickly. 

“A USB uncovered at the data centre has revealed a list of names and locations that at first glance don’t mean much. However, after some digging around and conferring with a few agents in Overwatch, we’ve discovered this information is related to an extremely dangerous underground terrorist group that’s been showing up on our radar lately.” Reyes turns to the man with the moustache and nods. 

“Agent Gerard Lacroix of Overwatch has been leading the charge in taking this group down. He’s been hunting them down for over almost two years now and has been crucial in stopping their criminal activities multiple times. No one knows more about this enemy than him, and that is why Strike Commander Morrison has signed off on us assisting him in finding these terrorists and stopping them by whatever means necessary.” None of the Blackwatch agents need to ask what he means by that. 

“While we’re working together, I expect you all to listen to Agent Lacroix and report to him with any pertinent information you come across regarding this case. Understand?”

Every Blackwatch agent in the room nods in sync.

“Perfect. Take it from here, Gerard.” Reyes steps away from the head of the table and seats himself down at the nearest chair while Agent Lacroix rises to take his place. 

“Thank you, Commander. Eloquent as always I see,” Lacroix says with a suave french accent. He smiles at them all and taps a button on a small tablet in his hand. Behind him, images of people in dark masks and uniforms appear from what look like various security feed records. 

“This enemy of ours has many names depending on where they are at the time. The one that seems to show up the most in english however, is _Talon_. And like their namesake they are extremely dangerous. Talon is responsible for multiple assassinations, bombings, thefts… I could go on, but to summarize for you all: if you can imagine it they’ve done it.” Lacroix’s face darkens the more he speaks. 

“They are careful. They are clever. They are deadly. Worst of all? They are cruel. There is no limit to the horrors Talon is willing to subject those who stand in their way to. They are not to be underestimated under any circumstance. I have been fighting them for nearly two years and have barely been able to scratch the surface of their operations. Still, I am certain that with the help of you, Commander Reyes’ finest, we will finally be able to put an end to these monsters once and for all.” 

Lacroix looks toward the young woman seated nearby and the tightness in his muscles seem to relax somewhat. He exhales deeply and swipes over to a new image on screen. 

“Thanks to Agent McCree’s find, we’ve been able to identify a list of multiple resource contacts for Talon. One of these contacts is this man,” Lacroix pauses to tap a button on his tablet “Adrien LeBeau, owner of several high end hotels and casinos throughout Europe. And luckily for us, a fan of the Paris Ballet.” The images on the monitor switch over to a picture of a fairly attractive middle aged man with a trim beard and dark suit.

“Thanks to my lovely wife Amelie, we have four extra invitations to the Ballet’s annual Patron’s Ball in three weeks’ time. Lebeau is always present and honored at this party thanks to his sizable donations over the years. It’s the perfect time to catch him off guard and bring him in for questioning.” Lacroix grins and brings up the layout of the building. 

“I need four of you to go undercover as guests at this party. Civilians are involved, so it is of utmost importance that Lebeau is led away from the party without suspicion or brute force, understand? Outside the building I need three teams to wait at these locations…”

Lacroix goes over multiple routes to take to leave with the target, various vantage points, people to be avoided... Jesse does his best to remember it all as best he can. It’s not often they work so closely with Overwatch. To be this involved together, Talon must really be one of Morrison’s top priorities.

“Commander Reyes, you have more knowledge of your agents abilities. I leave the decision for who fills what roles up to you. I would prefer you lead the undercover team though, as it is critically important that it go well.” Lacroix sneaks a glance over at the woman Jesse assumes is his wife. “No one must be injured, and I know you will keep that standard upheld.”

Reyes nods. “Of course. Myself, Larson, Ivanov, and McCree can lead the undercover unit.”

Jesse almost hurts his neck he turns his head so fast. Reyes doesn’t look perturbed in the least as he goes on to list the roles for the other agents involved. Across the table Larson looks just as surprised as Jesse does.

“Commander, if I may?” The captain asks once Reyes is finished. He receives a nod and straightens in his seat. 

“Myself and Agent Ivanov I can understand, but surely Agent McCree would do better in one of the extraction teams? His strengths lean towards combat more than subterfuge, and if we’re trying to lure the target away then perhaps a female agent-”

“Ah, nothing to fear there Captain,” Agent Lacroix interrupts. “Monsieur LeBeau prefers the more… masculine sex, if our intel is correct.” He smiles as Larson seems to pale a few shades. “And as Agent McCree is the one responsible for leading us to Talon’s contacts in the first place, I have full confidence in him if it’s any consolation to you. Commander Reyes?”

Reyes nods, the usual mask of professionalism on his face. “Your concern has been taken under advisement, Captain. However, I am certain Agent McCree is more than capable of handling the role he’s been given.” The lines of Reyes’ mouth twitch slightly downward. A bad sign. “Any more questions about my judgement Larson, or can we move on?”

The captain immediately backs down, hunching over a little in his seat. “No, Commander. My apologies.”

“Very well. Now, about communication…”

  
  


\--

  
  


By the time the meeting ends, Jesse’s heart rate has returned to somewhat normal. Everyone around him rises and leaves without hesitation and soon the room is almost completely empty. Jesse lets out a deep breath and starts to stand up when he hears a soft chuckle from his left. 

“Quite the meeting, wasn’t it?” The woman - Mrs. Lacroix, asks with a grin as she steps up beside him. 

Quickly recovering from his surprise, Jesse tips his hat and returns her smile. “That it was, Mrs. La- uh, _Madame_ Lacroix.”

“Amelie, please” she says, accent matching her husband’s. “No need for formalities with me. Not after you’ve made my husband so happy with this breakthrough, Agent McCree.”

“Call me Jesse. No formalities needed either.” He winks at her, grinning as she chuckles. “So this really is a big deal then? These guys have really been giving your husband that much trouble?”

“Oh, Gerard is over the moon about this. He got quite a few grey hairs from all the stress last year and almost became a recluse because of it. Your lead has practically given him new life.”

He laughs, trying to picture the man from earlier moping around dramatically. “Well that’s good to hear I suppose. It must have been frustrating going to meetings with a miserable lead agent.”

Amelie shrugs, and Jesse suddenly notices how _young_ the elegant woman in front of him is. No older than him, most likely a few years younger. 

“Truth be told, I’ve only been to a couple of Gerard’s work meetings. I’m not officially part of Overwatch, you see. He likes to keep his work separate from me when he can, though I’ve told him I don’t mind sharing the weight of it with him.”

“Well this kind of stuff can get real heavy and dark sometimes. It ain’t pretty.” Jesse’s long become numb to the sight of blood, gore, and corpses, but even he gets shaken up sometimes from the work they do. Thankfully Gabriel had always been there to help him focus on other things and get back in control. “He probably just doesn’t want you to worry. He seems like a good guy.”

Amelie smiles fondly while her fingers carefully touch at the wedding ring on her left hand. “He is. Gerard is a wonderful man.” Her voice softens slightly. “I’m lucky to have him.”

“By the way he was looking at you during that meeting, I think it’s safe to say he feels the same,” Jesse jokes. “How’d you two meet anyhow?” he asks, eager to keep up the conversation. It’s been too long since he could talk to someone about something other than training schedules, and so far he genuinely enjoys speaking to Amelie.

“Honestly? A mix up with some dinner reservations. We’d both been led to the same table by accident and decided to share.”

“Huh.” Jesse relaxes back into his seat while Amelie lowers herself into the one beside him. “That’s lucky.”

“Not for the people we were both on dates with at the time, but…” she waves her hand nonchalantly “ _C’est la vie._ ”

Jesse can’t help but laugh out loud. “Huh. Wasn’t expecting _that_ but well done.”

“Thank you, thank you. We hit it off so well that we just kept wanting to talk and see each other. Eventually I invited him to see me perform and the rest is well...” she waves her left hand to make her point. “It worked out for us.”

“I’m glad.” Jesse says. “And not just because you’re getting us a way in on this mission. You two seem real sweet together, it’s cute.”

Amelie’s cheeks redden slightly. “Thank you. Some people haven’t been so excited for us. It’s good to hear kind words for once.”

That’s… surprising. Jesse leans forward, brows furrowing in confusion. “Oh? Why’s that? You both seem like decent people, and you’re obviously head over heels for each other. What’s the problem?”

For the first time, Amelie’s smile falters and she looks away for a moment while her posture stiffens. “Well. There’s more to it but...” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear while her frown deepens. “My family was hoping I would court someone in a different sort of social circle. And Gerard is… older. Some of his friends don’t approve of that very much, even if they try to hide it.”

“What seriously? What do either of those things matter?” Jesse asks incredulously. “It ain’t nobody’s business but your own if you ask me.” 

Amelie smiles at him again, though it seems more fragile than before. “That’s what I tell myself. It’s still hard to deal with some days though. Still, thank you Jesse. I appreciate it.” She’s quiet for a moment. Suddenly a playful smirk teases at her lips. “But I suppose I should have known _you_ would sympathize. Commander Reyes is quite handsome, isn’t he?”

Immediately, all the blood in Jesse’s body rushes to his face. Was he that obvious? He thought for sure he’d kept it under control.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Madame Lacroix _._ ”

There’s a mischievous glint in her eye as she laughs. “Of course. Whatever you say, _Agent McCree_.” She looks him over and then leans back in her chair, apparently letting go of the topic. “Anyway. I must confess, I was hoping to catch you alone. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Jesse perks up, curious. “Oh?”

“Your captain - Larson was it?” Jesse nods and she continues. “It seems he thinks you won’t do very well on this mission. Why is that?”

Jesse scowls and tugs his hat a little lower onto his head. “Mostly because he’s an asshole. But uh. I’m not…” He bites the inside of his cheek in frustration. “I’ve never been to a real fancy party before. I dunno, maybe he thinks I’m gonna botch it by eating with a wrong spoon or wearing the wrong shoes or something.”

Amelie hums in understanding. “I see. Well. We can’t have that, can we? After all, this is a party for high society. We need the people we send inside to act like they really belong there.”

Him and his big mouth. Here he had an opportunity to take on some real responsibility and make Reyes proud and now he’s gone and fucked it up by admitting he’d make a fool of himself. Amelie will obviously tell Gerard to make Reyes pick someone else and then-

“How well can you dance, Agent McCree?” she asks, interrupting his thoughts. 

He thinks back to the few Blackwatch parties he’d gone to over the years. Did line dancing count? Probably not. Well, he was in too deep now, might as well come clean.

“Uh. Not so good if I’m bein’ honest.”

“I see. Well.” She stands up, brushing herself off carefully. When she looks at him she’s smirking again. “We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?”

  
  



	6. Strange What Desire Will Make Foolish People Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse finds himself in a new role at a very fancy party. Dancing is involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: alcohol, a honeypot mission (and all that entails), needles
> 
> Thank you to Alex and Mo-Mouse/Evi for beta reading!

The party is like something out of a movie. Around him, men and women are dressed to the nines in stunning dresses and suits, dancing to music performed by a string quartet and a woman at a piano. Omnic waiters walk in between all the guests while holding shining silver platters with tiny morsels of food and tall flutes of champagne. Posters and banners of ballet dancers are hung around the room amid beautiful decorations. In the centre of the ballroom, people are dancing in perfect step with each other. 

Jesse has never felt more out of place. He misses his gun. The syringe filled with a tranquilizer hidden in his tux just doesn’t hold the same comfort. 

He grabs a glass from a passing omnic and downs it in three gulps. 

“Take it easy there, McCree” Ivanov murmurs from his side. “Reyes will be pissed if you get drunk here.”

Jesse forces a smile. “Just blending in, don’t mind me.”

Ivanov gives him a hard stare and saunters away, no doubt keeping his eyes peeled for their target. Blonde, thin, and slightly leaning on the androgynous side, it had been decided early on that he would be the honeypot for the mission. Playing the most critical role in the whole operation, it’s no wonder he doesn’t want to risk being seen near Jesse, even if Amelie had helped him clean up his appearance. 

_“Status?”_ Gerard’s voice echoes into Jesse’s ear.

“ _Clear on the east_ ,” Ivanov’s voice answers quietly. Larson clears them for the west side of the room, and Jesse does his best to keep his nerves under control when he realizes it’s his turn.

“Clear for south,” he says behind his empty glass. 

“ _North holo display,_ ” a low, smooth voice says last. Reyes. “ _Target confirmed_.”

Jesse casually glances toward the far side of the room where an elaborate display of holovids shows off some of the best ballet dancers’ performances on repeat. From where he’s standing he thinks he sees the back of Lebeau’s head, but he can’t be sure.

_“Perfect. Agent Ivanov, you know what to do.”_ Jesse can practically hear Gerard smiling on the other end of their comms. _“Keep me posted, gentlemen. We have backup ready on call.”_

All of their comms go silent. Jesse sees Ivanov start to slip through the crowds toward the target and relaxes somewhat. It’ll take a little while to get Lebeau interested enough to leave, he figures he can take the opportunity to grab a snack and maybe another drink in the meantime. 

Long tables are set up not too far away from him, practically overflowing with platters of food. A bar is set up nearby as well, omnics working away to serve drinks promptly to the waiting guests. Jesse heads there immediately. 

He barely gets his fingers on the glass of his whiskey when a voice behind him nearly startles him out of his skin. 

“My, my, someone cleans up nicely.” Amelie says teasingly. Unlike everyone else at the party, she speaks to him in english.

Jesse turns to face her. Looking her over, he whistles and raises his glass. “I could say the same for you. You look like a movie star in that dress.” 

She tosses her long dark hair back nonchalantly. “This old thing? You are too kind.” She subtly poses to show off her elegant silver evening gown. Jesse does his best not to laugh. 

“Quite the shindig they have here. Your dance company really put this on?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink. 

“The managers arrange everything. It’s meant to impress the government officials and other rich patrons enough to keep funding us.” She motions for the bartender and receives a glass of red wine in return. “So yes, the _shindig_ must be quite grand.”

Glad to have a familiar face nearby in such an uncomfortable atmosphere, Jesse breathes easier and quickly falls into conversation with Amelie as they casually start to walk around the room. Jesse makes sure to keep an eye out for anything suspicious but his comm is still quiet so he assumes the mission is going according to plan. Ivanov must be doing everything right at least.

After a few minutes spent making fun of some obviously altered photographs on display, Amelie sips her wine and hums. “I must admit, I almost didn’t recognize you without that funny hat of yours on. Is that why you always wear it? To throw people off later when you don’t?”

“You’ve seen right through me, madame.” Maybe that’s why he’s so uncomfortable. That hat has been with him for years, it’s practically his best friend at this point. Jesse reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair impulsively.

Amelie sighs and shakes her head. “I told you not to touch it too much, you’ll make it lose it’s form. It’s styled so nicely, you see more of your face this way!”

“Like anyone needs to see more of this mean mug!” Jesse jokes, laughing as Amelie playfully nudges him in the arm. 

“I’m serious! I worked hard to bring out your good looks, the least you can do is try not to undo all my effort.”

“Hey now, I’m pretty sure you enjoyed seeing me flinch when you were messing around with my eyebrows. Not to mention that beard took me ages to grow before you went and shaved it all off. Don’t pretend this was all for my benefit.”

She scoffs and turns her nose up. “That awful patch you called a beard was atrocious. I did you a favour.”

Jesse puts his hand over his heart in mock surprise. “Madame Lacroix, you are cutting me deep here! Why I can’t believe-” as he steps back he realizes just a second too late that someone is behind him. All of a sudden, time slows as everything around him starts to go horribly wrong. 

Jesse tries to catch his balance, but the dress shoes he’s wearing don’t have nearly the same grip as his usual Blackwatch boots. He slips and stumbles on the smooth ballroom floor, and instinctively reaches out to steady himself. Unfortunately for him, all he succeeds in doing is bringing the person he’d bumped into down to the ground with him. They shout in surprise, and for a brief moment Jesse sees Amelie staring in horror as he goes down, his drink falling from his hand and spilling everywhere as the glass shatters into a million pieces.

As Jesse’s body hits the floor, time decides to speed up again. A few people gather around them, murmuring in french while they observe the mess Jesse’s made. He swears he can hear the music stutter in the background. The person on the ground next to him curses as they scramble to stand again.

“ _Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?_ ” Jesse asks, just barely remembering to switch to french in time. He feels completely embarrassed as he stands up, silently hoping some higher power would just strike him dead already.

His hapless victim turns to glare at him and Jesse’s heart almost stops. Of all the people to make a scene with, naturally Jesse had to knock into the one person that needed to look good all night. He didn’t even know Ivanov was capable of such an intense death glare. 

_“McCree you fucking moron!”_ Larson swears over the comms.

“ _What were you thinking, you stupid oaf?_ ” Ivanov hisses as omnic servers rush to his side with napkins. “ _You spilled your drink all over me!_ ”

“ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry!_ ” Jesse says again desperately. “ _I didn’t mean to! I can-_ ”

Ivanov waves his hand to silence Jesse, obviously furious. His usual cool and mysterious image has definitely been ruined by Jesse’s fuckup. His slicked back blonde hair is out of place, and he starts rubbing furiously at the whiskey stains on his shirt. “ _Shut up you idiot! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?_ ”

Jesse gulps while Larson continues to swear into his ear over the comms. He hopes Ivanov didn’t have to pay too much for his outfit. The shirt is probably the least of reasons the other agent wants to murder him at the moment though.

“ _Oh_ _come now, it’s only a shirt it’s not that bad,_ ” a man next to them says. “ _I’m sure the staff can have that fixed in no time._ ”

A sinking feeling pulls at Jesse’s guts. He turns to look at the speaker. Adrien Lebeau, target of the entire mission and vital key to tracking down the Talon terrorists, smiles back at him. 

Ivanov frowns, looking between Lebeau and Jesse. “ _But Adrien-_ ” 

“ _Go on, let them help you. I’ll sort this out and catch up with you later._ ” Lebeau says, waving Ivanov away. “ _I’m sure they have a stain remover or at least a spare shirt around here somewhere._ ”

Ivanov looks ready to protest, but the comms kick in before he can say anything.

_“Back out and regroup,”_ Commander Reyes orders quickly. Oh god, he saw Jesse ruin everything up close. _“We’ll figure out how to salvage this. Just don’t make the target hostile.”_

Permanent mission suspension is definitely on the horizon for Jesse. It has to be. He watches as Ivanov reluctantly lets the waiters show him away to the restroom to get cleaned up. Wondering just how badly the other agent is going to kill him later, Jesse hangs his head and starts to retreat.

He only manages to walk about ten feet when a hand touches his shoulder. Jesse turns around and surprisingly enough, finds Lebeau smiling back at him.

“ _Apologies for that little spectacle, it was quite rude of my friend to speak so harshly over a simple accident_.” He offers his hand out while carefully pulling the other one away from Jesse’s shoulder. “ _Adrien Lebeau. And you are?_ ”

“Uh.” 

Smooth.

“Thomas, are you alright?” Amelie suddenly cuts in, appearing at Jesse’s side in a flash. “It all happened so fast, I couldn’t believe it!” 

Caught off guard by Amelie’s quick intervention, Jesse nearly misses her cue. She shoots him a careful look, raising her eyebrow ever so slightly. and suddenly it’s like a switch has been flipped in Jesse’s brain as he realizes the situation. Reyes picked him for this because he thought Jesse could handle the mission. If it goes south, a lot of people will be hurt down the line, including people like Amelie. Gerard trusted him to do well too, if the mission fails over something so stupid as a spilled drink, he’ll never forgive Jesse.

He might have fucked up once already, but maybe he can at least hold Lebeau’s interest long enough for Ivanov to come back and undo Jesse’s blunder.

Mission mode taking over his brain, Jesse switches back to english and nods. “I’m fine, Amelie. Well, aside from my pride. Sorry you had to see me make a fool of myself like that.” He smiles halfheartedly at her and looks back to Lebeau. “Tom Stoker,” he says, pulling a fake surname out of his ass while he shakes the other man’s hand. 

“Amelie Lacroix.” Beside him, Amelie allows Lebeau to kiss her hand politely. 

“ _Ah, Lacroix! The star of every performance! I’m a fan of your work,_ ” Lebeau says before introducing himself to her. Looking back at Jesse, he smiles. “ _Is Monsieur Stoker here as your guest then?_ ”

“ _He is,_ ” she replies in french. “ _A friend of mine from America. You wouldn’t know at first glance, but Thomas here is an extremely talented photographer. I’ve posed for him for many sessions in the past, and every time he’s always been a delight to work with_.” She smiles sweetly, and Jesse wonders for the hundredth time why she isn’t an official Overwatch agent. 

“Ah, an American!” Lebeau exclaims. “My apologies, if I’d known I would have spoken in english sooner.”

“Not to worry. I’m not completely fluent but I’d say I can speak the language fairly well at least”

Amelie smirks. “Of course you can, Thomas. A commendable effort.”

“You are so cruel to me, Amelie.” Jesse sighs. “Well, I’m slowly learning anyway.”

Lebeau chuckles and pats him on the shoulder, leaving his hand in place. “Nonsense, you spoke very well earlier. Though I must admit, that lovely accent of yours comes across much better in your native tongue. Where in the United States are you from, exactly?”

“Phoenix, but my studio is based in Los Angeles,” Jesse says confidently. “It’s not the biggest place, but I do what I can to make sure my clients have top notch quality.”

Lebeau nods, buying it easily. “If Amelie is impressed by your work, I’m sure you do nothing but the best.” As he speaks, Jesse feels the man’s thumb rubbing in small circles against his shoulder. “I’d love to know more about you and your work, Monsieur Stoker. Please, allow me to get you a drink.”

Jesse smiles sweetly. “That’s mighty kind of you Monsieur Lebeau-”

“Please. Call me Adrien.” Lebeau’s thumb rubs another circle. 

“Adrien. I’d love a drink, thank you.”

Lebeau smiles and lets go of Jesse at last as he heads toward the bar. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jesse turns to Amelie. 

“You’re too good at this, anyone ever tell you that?”

She scoffs at him, folding her arms. “Please. This is child’s play. You don’t become the star dancer here without learning to think fast on your feet. Politics are just as important as the actual dance routines.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m about to be fired after this, so if you ever thought about changing careers I know a spot that’s opening up.” 

  
  


\--

  
  


Lebeau has two more drinks brought over for Jesse as the night goes on. Aside from pouring the whiskey into a flower arrangement when Lebeau isn’t looking, Jesse stays on his best behaviour and manages to keep his cover story interesting enough to hold the target’s attention. He makes sure to break in with questions and compliments about Lebeau frequently, smiling and laughing at all of his jokes and one liners. 

Sadly, Amelie had gotten tired of pretending to laugh with him and left to make the rounds with other guests ages ago. Jesse’s not sure what’s taking Ivanov so long, but at least he hasn’t sent the target storming off yet, so he figures as long as he keeps it up for just a little longer they should be able to get back on schedule. 

“You know, Tom…” Lebeau shifts a little on the fancy chaise lounge they’d been sitting on for the past hour. “All this talking has been wonderful. But it occurs to me that I’ve been speaking with you all evening and haven’t even asked you to dance yet.” He rises from his seat and extends a hand out to Jesse. “Would you do me the honour?”

Without an actual choice, Jesse raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Why Adrien, I’m so flattered.” He takes Lebeau’s hand. “Hope you’re fine dancing with a novice though. I’m still waiting on my ballet academy acceptance letter.”

Lebeau laughs heartily as he helps him up. “Not to worry. You’ll just have to trust me to lead you,” he murmurs, leaning in closer before leading Jesse away.

As soon as their feet touch the dance floor Lebeau’s hand moves to the back of Jesse’s waist while his other takes his hand. Easily, Jesse falls into step with him while the musicians play and silently thanks whatever higher power is listening for Amelie’s help in learning to dance. Jesse’s not great by any means, but he keeps up with Lebeau and doesn’t trip anyone, so he considers it a success. 

“You’re sure you haven’t been to many parties like this? You’re dancing quite well,” Lebeau murmurs as they dance between other couples on the floor. 

Jesse chuckles and does his best to look bashful. “Well, maybe you’re just a good dance partner.”

Lebeau seems to enjoy his answer and pulls Jesse in closer. 

They dance until the song ends and begins to bleed into a new one. Confident at last in his dancing ability, Jesse opens his mouth to tell Lebeau to let him try leading this time when they’re suddenly interrupted by a long, slender hand tapping Jesse on the shoulder. 

“Thomas dear, I’m so sorry but would you allow me to steal dear Adrien for a dance? I can’t let him leave this party without showing off some moves for him. He’s one of our most generous patrons after all,” Amelie says, batting her eyelashes. 

Jesse smiles and tips his imaginary hat to her, letting go of Lebeau and stepping back to let her take his place. He thinks Lebeau might look a little disappointed, but Amelie whisks him away too fast to really see.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it. As soon as the two of them are out of earshot, Jesse feels another tap at his shoulder.

“Mind if I have this dance?”

Jesse turns around and forgets to breathe.

Reyes is handsome no matter what he wears, whether it’s his combat armour or a casual hoodie and sweats. But this. This is just _unfair_. His dark curls are artfully styled with just the perfect amount of stray locks in his face. Beneath a fitted black tux and burgundy vest, firm muscles pull at the material just enough to hint at the power underneath. While unfortunately his facial scars are covered up, his goatee is freshly trimmed, and his honey brown eyes shine beautifully in the ballroom’s lighting. 

Jesse manages to nod and wonders if he’s somehow died and gone to heaven when Reyes puts his hands on him and starts leading him in a thankfully slower number than before. Jesse doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle something fast paced while his brain is still obsessing over how good his commander looks in formal wear. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Jesse jokes, doing his best not to trip over the most handsome man in the world.

Reyes simply raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Likewise.” He looks Jesse over carefully, as though Jesse weren’t already nervous enough. “You look nice.”

Maybe Reyes won’t notice how red Jesse’s face definitely is. Maybe.

“Ivanov returning?” Jesse asks quietly, changing the subject as they dance. Mission. Focus on the mission.

“Plans have changed,” Reyes whispers near Jesse’s ear as he turns them a little further. “He’s watching the south exit.”

What? “But that’s my-”

“I know,” Reyes says quickly. “But the target isn’t interested in Ivanov anymore. Now he’s interested in you. Gerard thinks you should switch.”

Jesse’s not sure what to say to that. What can he say? _Oops, sorry I accidentally seduced the target?_ Like anyone, especially Reyes would even believe that.

Reyes’ throat moves hypnotically as he swallows. “Listen to me. If you want to go back to the original roles, tell me right now. I’ll send Ivanov back in.”

Jesse tries to keep his surprise from showing through to his expression. He doesn’t know who’s watching him at the moment after all. “But… if he thinks I should do it, shouldn’t I?”

The grip on Jesse’s waist tightens just a little. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. Not when it comes to that kind of work.”

It takes him a second, but then Jesse understands what he means. Why Reyes didn’t just tell him all of this over the comms where the others would hear. 

“I’m not in Deadlock anymore,” he murmurs.

“I know.” Reyes turns them again. Jesse frowns.

“This isn’t like that at all.”

“I know,” Reyes says again, though Jesse’s unconvinced. “Still. I don’t want you to do anything like that if you’re not completely comfortable with it. You didn’t sign up for that role, I won’t force it on you.” He moves in a little closer, and Jesse breathes in the scent of his cologne. “So just give me the word and I’ll get you out of it.”

The cellist plays a beautiful solo in the background. Jesse tightens his own grip on Reyes’ arm and looks up to meet his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes that Jesse thinks about constantly.

“Lacroix thinks I should do it.”

Reyes’ lips twitch. “Yes. But-”

“Then I’ll do it.” Jesse holds his gaze. “We need this, right?”

“I can send-”

“You said it yourself, he’s more interested in me.” Jesse’s tongue peeks out to wet his lips. His heart jumps when he sees Reyes’ eyes flicker down to his mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Reyes doesn’t say anything. Jesse has a feeling he wants to argue more, but the song is ending and they don’t have much time left. “Northwest wing?”

Reyes’ eyes close for a moment. He nods. “Give me your syringe. We can’t risk him finding it before you can use it.”

Jesse steps in closer under the cover of the dance, enough to easily slip his only weapon into Reyes’ pocket. His fingers brush against Reyes’ side, and maybe it’s just his imagination but he thinks he hears the commander inhale sharply as he touches him.

Reyes says nothing at first. Then he carefully leans in and whispers into Jesse’s ear. 

“Keep your comm on from here on out. We move in on your signal.”

The musicians end their song at last. A brief pause and then a new one begins. Reyes doesn’t let go of Jesse until his shoulder is tapped yet again. When he turns around, he feigns surprise at Lebeau and smiles wide. 

He deserves a damn oscar for how well he pretends to eagerly get away from Reyes, ‘gladly’ moving back into Lebeau’s arms. 

“Who was that?” Lebeau asks as he leads him away with an arm around Jesse’s waist. He sounds just a little bit jealous.

“Who, him?” Jesse glances back to see Reyes staring after him for a moment, alone on the edge of the dance floor. Jesse scoffs. “Just some creep with a couple bad pickup lines.” He turns back to his dance partner and smiles playfully. 

“Forget him. Why don’t you remind me how a good dance partner leads?”

Lebeau eases up instantly, radiating smugness from Jesse’s compliment. He takes his hands and pulls Jesse almost flush against him. 

Mission time. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Sneaking through the northwest wing of the building, Jesse pretends to giggle drunkenly as he leads Lebeau by the hand towards the bathrooms. According to the blueprints, this wing is technically closed off from the party. Less chance of being caught. 

He just barely pulls him into the men’s washroom when Lebeau’s mouth is on Jesse’s, kissing him with all the vigor of a tipsy, horny man who’s been teased to his limit. Jesse kisses back just as eagerly, moaning between breaths as he moves his hands up to push Lebeau’s jacket off. 

_“Target is in place. Phase Two positions,”_ Reyes orders over the comm line. Jesse moans loudly as Lebeau starts kissing down his neck. He digs his fingers into the back of Lebeau’s shirt and starts to pull him toward the stalls. As Jesse unzips his pants, a little squeak escapes him as Lebeau suddenly lifts him off the ground. Jesse braces himself for a hit, but relaxes once he shoves him against the sink counter instead. 

_“In position,”_ Ivanov says.

“Eager much?” Jesse pants, smirking up at Lebeau. The man grins back down at him and immediately gets started on tugging the bottom of Jesse’s charcoal tux down past his thighs.

_“Larson, position?”_ Reyes asks when the captain says nothing.

“Ah!” Jesse cries out as Lebeau nips at his neck and strokes him over the thin fabric of his underwear. “D-don’t tease,” he whines as he reaches out to unzip Lebeau. 

_“Larson, your position.”_

Lebeau bats Jesse’s hands away. “Like you haven’t been teasing me for hours. Naughty.” He licks his lips and moves himself in between Jesse’s legs to press himself up against Jesse’s straining groin. “Shall I make you beg for it?”

“Please,” Jesse moans as sweetly as he can. “Come on, please fuck me.”

_“Larson! Position, now!”_ Reyes snaps over the comms.

Lebeau groans and takes Jesse’s lips in another kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth while his beard rubs against Jesse’s skin. For a brief moment, Jesse closes his eyes. He can almost trick himself into believing it’s Reyes. That one of Jesse’s fantasies has come to life and it’s his commander between his thighs, stripping himself down and getting ready to fuck him over a counter. Then Lebeau grunts and starts calling him names in french and the illusion is broken. 

Jesse opens his eyes. Over Lebeau’s shoulder, Larson stares back. 

Jesse stiffens up. He can’t help it. This isn’t right. The captain is too early. He’s supposed to wait until Jesse gives the signal, why is he here now?

_“Larson, goddammit, where the fuck are you?”_ Reyes nearly shouts into Jesse’s ear as the Captain steps forward with his syringe raised in his hand, ready to bring it down on Lebeau.

He mustn’t have accounted for the giant mirror against the wall though. Lebeau lifts his head up from Jesse’s mouth for just a second, and before Jesse can pull him back down, he shouts in surprise and jumps away just as Larson brings the needle down toward him. 

“What the fuck?” Jesse shouts as Larson just barely misses Jesse’s leg while their target scrambles away. Hurriedly, Jesse tugs his pants up. Larson pays him no mind, shoving Jesse back against the counter as he goes after Lebeau again, moving to grapple him. Just as Larson gets in close, Lebeau throws a rolled towel from the sinks at him. It’s enough to make the captain raise his arm to protect his face on instinct, and Lebeau takes the chance to quickly duck to the left. He pushes Larson into Jesse and runs right past him toward the door. 

“No!” Larson shouts as his syringe slips from his fingers. Jesse frantically manages to catch it before it hits the ground while Lebeau dashes out into the hall. “Target is fleeing, move in!” Larson says quickly over the comms. Jesse’s already out the door and in pursuit.

_“All agents move in!”_ Reyes repeats, fury in every note of his voice. “ _Do not let him get back to where civilians are! He cannot be allowed to escape_!” 

Jesse runs faster, Larson’s syringe in hand. His eyes stay focused completely on Lebeau’s back as he chases after him down the hall. They’re getting closer and closer to the ballroom. If Lebeau makes it back before Jesse it’ll sabotage the stealth aspect of their mission and put all the guests at risk. He can’t let that happen.

“Adrien, wait! Wait for me!” Jesse cries out impulsively. He doesn’t actually expect the man to slow down, but fate is on his side when Lebeau glances back for just a moment and stumbles over the laid out red carpet, granting Jesse a precious second to try to catch up while he regains his balance. 

The man is spooked though. He won’t look back again, not for someone he thinks is just a quick fuck for the night. He keeps running and Jesse can hear the music from the party getting louder and louder. They’re almost back. 

He gets desperate. He leaps forward and rolls.

Lebeau squawks in surprise as Jesse’s body collides with his legs, bringing him down to the floor hard. Muscle memory from all the sessions training in Blackwatch kick into overdrive, and Jesse easily maneuvers himself to pin the man down. He jams the needle of the syringe right into the side of Lebeau’s neck and pushes the plunger down. 

The drug takes a few moments to take complete effect unfortunately, but Jesse manages to keep Lebeau restrained long enough for Larson to catch up to them. Together they manage to pull a struggling Lebeau back and drag him toward a corner behind one of the pillars in the hall. Despite his best efforts, Lebeau’s movements rapidly start to slow down as his body becomes more and more sluggish. 

“Target down,” Jesse pants into his comm once he’s sure there’s no chance of escape. “Northwest wing, ninth pillar to the right.”

In his arms, Lebeau stops struggling at last and goes completely limp. 

“Mission successful.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Outside Reyes’ office, Jesse swallows nervously and tries not to think about how badly he wants a cigarette. 

He also curses the fact that Reyes’ doors and walls are soundproof. Reyes, Lacroix, and Jack fucking Morrison of all people have all been talking inside for the better part of an hour. Jesse’s certain at least part of their conversation is about his role in the nearly botched mission he’d just returned from. 

True, he managed to salvage it in the end, but it was his blunder that stole Ivanov’s spotlight, and his mistake not to make sure Lebeau was penned into the stalls first. If he comes out of this with his job still intact, he’ll consider himself extremely fucking lucky to say the least.

He taps his fingers against his thigh for the millionth time and is just about to say fuck it and grab a quick smoke break when the door open at last. Jesse instantly rises to his feet as Strike Commander Morrison steps out of the commander’s office. 

He looks about as pleased to see Jesse as Jesse is to see him. Still, Jesse raises a half-hearted salute. Morrison ignores him and keeps walking. He doesn’t bother stopping to greet Jesse or give him any sign of acknowledgement. In the blink of an eye, he’s gone. 

Fucking dick.

“McCree. In here now,” Reyes beckons.

Jesse does as he’s told. Inside, Reyes is already back in his usual Blackwatch attire, sitting behind his desk and rubbing at his temples. Behind him, Agent Lacroix leans against the far wall with his arms crossed. Not a good sign, Jesse thinks as he stands in front of the commander’s desk. 

“Tell me what happened McCree,” Reyes asks, bringing his hand down to look Jesse in the eye. 

Jesse tells him every last embarrassing detail he can remember. There’s no point hiding anything from Reyes, he’s learned that long ago.

On the other side of the desk, the commander remains stone-faced and silent throughout his report. Jesse can’t get even a hint as to what the man’s thinking. If he wasn’t so used to it by now it would unnerve the hell out of him. 

“And everything you’ve told me is the truth?” Reyes asks once Jesse’s finished debriefing. 

“Yes, Commander.” Jesse nods. 

Reyes says nothing for a moment. He turns his head to look at Lacroix. The other man shrugs and Reyes hums low in his throat. He turns back to Jesse. 

“I see. Well then.” He stands from his seat. Jesse braces for it. This is it. All in all he’s had a good run.

“Congratulations, McCree.” Reyes says. “You’ve just been promoted.”

Jesse’s not sure he heard right. The room is quiet as he tries to process what’s just been said.

“Uh…” he laughs awkwardly as the silence drags on a little too long. “Wanna run that by me one more time, Commander?”

Reyes rolls his eyes. In the corner, Lacroix snickers and tries to pass it off as a cough.

“I’m saying as of this moment, you’re now a lieutenant of Blackwatch. Is that really so much of a surprise?”

“I mean... yeah?” Shouldn’t he be fired instead? Or at least demoted? “Are you sure?” he says without even meaning to.

Lacroix snorts while Reyes looks like he’s torn between laughing and sighing. “Yes McCree, I’m sure. You think I give promotions out lightly?”

Jesse tries to process it all. As hard as he tries, it still doesn’t seem to make sense. 

“All due respect, Commander, I messed up pretty bad at the start of this mission. Agent Ivanov had to change positions because of me.” He shifts awkwardly on his feet. “You sure that’s something you wanna reward?”

“Agent Ivanov is a good agent and his ego will recover. But it’s apparent he wasn’t what the target was looking for, you were. You made a mistake, yes, but you went above and beyond to fix it, McCree. Not only that, when Captain Larson nearly ruined everything by moving in too soon and worse, almost letting the target escape, you were able to subdue Lebeau before our cover was blown.” Reyes slowly smiles. 

“You did good, Jesse.”

Jesse feels his cheeks warm up instantly. It’s hard not to smile back when he hears compliments from Reyes of all people. 

“Right. Thanks, Commander.”

Reyes nods. “Dismissed, Lieutenant. Take tonight and tomorrow off, you’ve earned it.”

Jesse salutes him and grins. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Later that night, he texts Amelie the good news. She responds by sending him a snapshot she must have taken of him and Reyes dancing at the party. 

Jesse immediately feels himself blush at their closeness in the photo. If no one knew any better, they’d probably think it was a tender, romantic moment.

He saves it to his phone and goes to sleep with a smile on his face.

  
  



	7. Gabriel II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You just can't run from the funnel of love.
> 
> AKA Gabriel argues with critique.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: alcohol, smoking, implied daddy kink
> 
> Thank you to Alex and Mo-Mouse/Evi for beta reading as usual :)

“You can’t be serious.”

Gabriel arches an eyebrow at Larson from across his desk. “What makes you think for a second that I’m joking?” 

“But-but a lieutenant? They head their own squads! You really want to give that kind of rank and responsibility to Agent McCree?” Larson asks incredulously.

“Agent McCree is the reason we were successful today. You on the other hand, nearly caused a major public catastrophe. Do you really think you have any right to counsel me on who I choose to promote right now?”

His captain sputters and shakes his head. “I have been your second in command for almost eight years, Reyes! And now after one bad mission-”

“It’s not just one bad mission though, is it?” Gabriel snaps. “It’s a series of bad fucking decisions that you keep piling up for me. You think I haven’t noticed the amount of reports that go unread, or the complaints from the recruits when they think no one’s listening?” 

Larson’s face reddens. “I do what I can to try to whip them into shape for battle. It’s not my job to make them like me.”

“No, but it your job to make them respect you. They don’t. They haven’t for a long time.” Gabriel shakes his head, frowning. “And this… this showboating shit you’ve been pulling lately. Not just this mission, it’s been going on for over a year now. I’m sick of it.” 

“I’m not showboating!”

“No? Then why move in alone before McCree gave the signal? He could have been severely injured, and the target almost escaped because of you!”

A vein throbs on Larson’s forehead. “McCree nearly botched the whole damn thing on his own! You think we should have depended on that idiot to tell us to move in? He’d have ruined it! I would have had the target down for the count if he hadn’t froze up at the sight of me and alerted him!”

“Because you didn’t tell us you were moving in! And don’t try to pin this on him, this is your blunder, Larson. Your failure. Accept the consequences.”

Larson, stubborn as always, refuses to back down. “Reyes you know damn well how good of an agent I am! You’ve trusted me at your side for years, watched my back as much as I’ve watched yours, just because you favour that little bastard doesn’t mean you can seriously-”

More and more annoyed by the moment, Gabriel does his best to keep his composure as he cuts into Larson’s rant. “Let’s get something straight here; I don’t favour any of my agents over others, Larson. I keep track of who handles missions and orders better than others, but favouritism is not something you need to be concerned with when it comes to me.”

“Bullshit,” Larson says bluntly. “You’ve been pulling strings for McCree since the day you met him.” 

“I’ve given McCree the same opportunities afforded just about everyone else. It’s his own hard work that’s paid off and given him his current position. Just like it’s your own negligence and irresponsibility that have put you in yours. Now if we’re finished here, we both have work that needs to be done.”

It’s not enough for Larson. He’s riled up, unused to getting his way in the end. It’s probably why he refuses to just let it go. 

“Reyes, Blackwatch means everything to it’s agents. To me. Ranking officers within it need to be taken seriously, they need to be true, hardened men! Not upjumped truckstop whores who-”

“Do _not_ finish that sentence,” Gabriel interrupts sharply. He rises from his seat, hands on his desk as he glares Larson down. “I don’t know what your problem is with Agent McCree, but it ends here. He’s worked hard to get where he is, and if it weren’t for him, this mission would have been a failure. You call him a name like that again and I will make certain you regret it. Understand?”

Larson cows at last, but only for a moment. Then he scoffs bitterly. 

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

_That_ catches Gabriel off guard. He thinks he manages to hide it at least. He’s not an overly expressive person around others, hopefully Larson doesn’t see how much he’s surprised him.

“Excuse me?” Gabriel asks dangerously.

Shaking his head, Larson starts to mutter. “It all makes sense now. Why that little shit’s been jumping rank so fast, why you even let him on this mission in the first place.” He plants his hands on the other end of Gabriel’s desk, leaning forward as he speaks. “How deep did he have to suck your dick to make you give him that title, huh Reyes?”

“You’re out of line Michael,” Gabriel growls. “There’s nothing like that happening between me and any of my agents. If you’re going to accuse me ofthat kind of fraternization, you’d best tread veryfucking carefully and decide if going down this path is really worth it to you.”

Larson stares him square in the eye as he shakes his head and sneers. “Fraternization? Is that what it’s called now? Sounds more like you’re some smartass brat’s new daddy.” 

“You’re suspended.” Gabriel says coldly. Enough is enough. “Now get the fuck out of my office.” 

Finally Larson seems to realize the severity of what he’s just said to his commanding officer. 

“Reyes I-”

“Consider your access to this base now restricted indefinitely.” Gabriel taps his fingers at his holoscreen to alert the Blackwatch AI to the new developments. Ares, while not as pleasantly social as Overwatch’s Athena, is just as efficient. Instantly, Larson’s ID picture appears with a bright yellow SUSPENDED tag beneath it, and all of his access powers are revoked. 

Larson’s jaw drops as he stares at the other side of the screen. “Reyes- Gabriel, please!” He seems to search for the right words as he desperately stutters. “I’m your captain! Your second in command! He’s not worth this!”

Gabriel’s jaw sets as he tries to restrain himself from punching Larson in the throat.

“I told you to get out.”

“Just let me-”

“If you aren’t out of my sight in ten seconds, I’ll have you stripped of your rank and give that to McCree too.”

For a moment, Gabriel wonders if the man is really going to keep arguing or not. He’s sure he wants to. Men like Larson despise not getting the last word in. Thankfully after a long pause he leaves at last.

As soon as the doors shut, Gabriel falls back into his seat and exhales deeply. What a fucking mess. 

He’s not even going to think about Larson’s accusations about him and McCree. It’s completely unfounded, they’ve done nothing. Nothing at all.

He thinks back to McCree in his fitted grey tux and clears his throat.

It’s not like the man is a mindreader. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The next day Gabriel walks down the halls in an attempt to clear his head. Everything considered, things are going well. Their latest mission was a success, Gerard (and more importantly Jack) are happy and won’t give him any hassle for awhile, McCree is well on his way to climbing the big ranks at last. Still, Larson’s comments from earlier have him feeling uneasy. 

He’s a worrier is what it is. Any situation not completely under his control causes Gabriel to feel uncomfortable. This mess with Larson will no doubt give him a few more grey hairs soon. He hopes not, McCree already teases him enough about being old, the little shit. 

And there he goes thinking about him again. Fuck.

He needs a smoke.

He heads outside near one of the back courtyards. Leaning against the wall, he pulls out his cigarette case and lights one up. As he takes a drag, he closes his eyes and does his best to let his nerves calm down. It’s just chance that he happens to overhear a couple recruits also taking a break on the other side of the lot talking excitedly to one another. To a normal person they’d be far out of earshot, but super soldier serum tends to fix little things like that.

“Did you hear?” One of them says to the other. “McCree got promoted. He’s Reyes’ new lieutenant.”

“What? No way!” The other sounds genuinely excited. “That’s awesome, about freaking time. Too bad it wasn’t to captain. You know that I asked Larson for two months to sign my time off request, and when I asked McCree he got Reyes to do it in an hour?”

“Unreal. Think he’ll throw a party to celebrate?”

“Probably not, knowing him he’ll already be going over the plans for whatever his next mission is. Especially now that he’ll have to lead most of them now.”

“Heh, that’d be a sight.” The agents both laugh a little. They must have known Jesse awhile then. “Good for McCree though, remind me to buy him a drink later.”

“You think he’ll put in a word for that new vending machine we’ve been asking for?”

“Can’t hurt to try!”

They start talking about less interesting gossip after that and Gabriel tunes out as he finishes his cigarette. It’s nice to know the recruits are legitimately happy for Jesse at least. Gabriel remembers how hard it was for the kid to build trust with the rest of Blackwatch for those first couple years, he’s glad things have mostly turned around since then. 

On his way back inside he thinks about what the recruits said about a celebration. It’s true, Jesse wouldn’t go out of his way to throw something for himself. He’s only a party animal when it’s for someone else’s benefit. 

Gabriel thinks about it more and more as the day goes on. Keeps thinking about it as he lies in bed that night. 

In the morning he makes a call. 

  
  


\--

  
  


“What exactly are you looking for?” Fareeha asks as they wander the streets together. 

Gabriel shrugs. “Just a gift. Nothing fancy.”

“Right,” she says, arching an eyebrow. “You asked my mom to come shopping with you for nothing fancy.”

“And yet she sent you instead. Imagine my surprise.” Ana always was too damn crafty. 

Fareeha shrugs, looking over another gift shop window. “She’s busy. Besides, I have way better taste. Especially if you’re getting something for Jesse.”

Gabriel scowls, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I didn’t say it was for Jesse.”

“No, but it is, right? It’s his first big promotion and you just made him a lieutenant, why else would you need a present?” She grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you find something good.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. Like mother like daughter, just his luck.

“And what would you suggest then?”

“Well nothing sensible, that’s for sure.” She scoffs at a selection of wallets on display and urges them to keep walking. “I mean, have you met Jesse? Tacky and over the top is definitely more his style.”

Hard to argue with that. Bad enough he’s never taken that stupid hat off since Gabriel bought it for him all those years ago, Jesse had gone and committed to the look by buying some god awful spurs for his boots. Then he’d decided to really go the extra mile by sticking one onto his gun. His _gun_ for christ’s sake. 

“Ho-lee shit I think we’ve found the jackpot,” Fareeha says, stopping in her tracks as she stares at a store across the street. When Gabe reads the sign, he realizes she’s probably right. He’d thought this particular chain of western wear stores had gone out of business, and yet here they’ve somehow stumbled across perhaps the last one in existence. Fareeha is already halfway through the door. He has no choice but to follow.

Inside, Gabe’s never seen so many gingham prints and rhinestones in his entire life. It’s horrifying.

“It’s perfect!” Fareeha grins as they take in their surroundings. She immediately starts looking around the clothing section while Gabriel hovers awkwardly behind her. The two of them stand out like a sore thumb in the store; Gabriel in all black, and Fareeha in her usual ripped up metalhead gear. Thankfully no one seems to notice or comment. The girl behind the counter is too busy talking on the phone to pay them much mind, and there’s almost no one else in the store.

“I’d say get him some boots but that’s kind of risky when he’s not here to try them on. Also, holy shit cowboy boots are expensive, who knew?”

“You swear like this in front of your mother?” Gabriel chides as they keep walking. 

“You know I don’t. But I also know you don’t really care and you need my help so here we are.” She skips over a wide selection of clothes and accessories with oversized jeweled crosses on them. “Maybe one of those horse lamp statues? He’d get a kick out of that.”

“He’d break it within a day. Next.”

She gestures to a selection of hunting gear near the back of the store. “Pocket knife?”

He shakes his head. “He’s already got five and three of them were built by Torbjorn. Next.”

Fareeha goes on through nearly the entire store, holding up everything from coffee mugs to bolo ties. It’s an hour of absolute hell. When she picks out a cowboy themed wedding cake topper as a joke, Gabriel decides he’s reached his limit.

“Enough already, this was a bad idea from the start. I’ll just sign a card like everyone else and buy him some whiskey,” he says a little louder than necessary.

Rolling her eyes Fareeha puts the cake topper back. “Fine, fine. They only have straight couple ones anyway.” Suddenly she stops in her tracks. Her eyes widen as she looks to Gabriel’s right. “Plus I just found what _I’m_ getting him.” With an intense focus Gabriel has never seen on her face before, Fareeha reaches toward a clothes rack and pulls out a t-shirt featuring a picture of Kenny Rogers giving a thumbs up. Under the picture it reads “ _KNOW WHEN TO HOLD ‘EM, KNOW WHEN TO FOLD ‘EM_ ”. 

“You realize I’m not letting him wear that on base.”

She shrugs, grinning like a maniac at her prize. “S’cool. He can wear it as pyjamas.”

Reluctantly, Gabriel follows her up to the cash register as she happily wastes her money on a joke gift. 

Teenagers.

Crossing his arms and huffing, Gabriel leans against the glass display counter while Fareeha finishes her transaction. Without really thinking about it he glances down into the display case while he waits.

There, sitting on a little red pillow, is the absolute perfect gift for Jesse McCree.

Finished paying, Fareeha walks over to see what Gabriel is staring at so intently. When she sees it, she groans loud enough that everyone in the store looks over at them.

“No! No fair! That is _way_ too funny to be a gift from you! I want a do-over!”

“Too late.” He waves down the cashier before Fareeha can try exchanging her dumb t-shirt.

He spends way too much money than he should on the stupid thing, but by the look on Fareeha’s face, he knows it’s worth it. 

He hopes so, anyway.

  
  


\--

  
  


They’d meant for it to be a surprise, but with a table full of alcohol and a bunch of fun deprived agents, the party is already starting by the time Agent Lu manages to lead Jesse into the rec room.

They all remember to shout ‘surprise’ when he walks through the door at least. And Jesse does indeed seem surprised. Right away his eyes widen like saucers as he looks around at the handwritten ‘congratulations!’ banner hung above the snack table and all the cheering Blackwatch agents filling the room. 

“Y’all really needed an excuse to party, huh?” Jesse jokes, though Gabriel can see him smiling ear to ear, cheeks bright red from embarrassment of being put on the spot. The others all laugh and cheer, and more than a few agents come up to shove bottles of booze into Jesse’s hands. 

Gabriel stays back for a few minutes, lets the kid get settled in first. Watches as Fareeha surprises Jesse from behind one of the couches and presents him with her gift. Naturally, Jesse appreciates her sense of humour. He thinks the stupid t-shirt is great and gives her a big hug in thanks before pulling it on overtop his plain black one. A few other agents gather around to congratulate him and pat him on the back, some presenting their own small presents. Eventually they give Jesse some space to breathe. At last Gabriel moves in.

“Pretty good turnout, I’d say.” He smiles down at Jesse, glad when the kid doesn’t stiffen up at the sight of his commander the way the others do. If anything, Jesse looks even more happy to see him. 

Gabriel shouldn’t start analyzing that trail of thought. Jesse is happy to see almost everyone all the time. It’s part of who he is.

“You really threw this for me?”

Gabriel nods. “Everyone here pitched in a little. They all wanted you to celebrate.”

“Pfft, you let me celebrate enough on my birthday,” Jesse says bashfully. “There’s other lieutenants in Blackwatch. It’s not _that_ big of a deal.”

Gabriel shrugs. “Like you said, mostly everyone really just wanted an excuse to get drunk and party. You know how it is. Also, this might surprise you but people around here like you. They’re glad to celebrate when you do well.”

Jesse flushes and tugs the brim of his hat down in embarrassment. “Aww geez, you’re makin’ me blush here, Reyes.”

Gabriel elbows his side fondly and decides to finally hand over the small gift box he’s been carrying since he got there. 

Jesse’s face lights up even more as he sees it. “A present?”

Gabriel nods. Suddenly he feels horribly self conscious of his gift as Jesse takes it and begins to eagerly tear off the wrapping paper. “Just something small.”

Jesse doesn’t seem to notice Gabriel’s apprehension. He lets the shredded paper fall to the floor as he pulls the lid off the giftbox. Then he looks inside and freezes. 

_Fuck,_ Gabriel thinks. He must have messed up. Jesse hates it.

Jesse silently stares at the gift inside for the longest five seconds of Gabriel’s life. Then he looks back up at him and the reverent stare he suddenly gives him sends goosebumps up Gabriel’s entire body. 

“No fucking way.” Jesse’s mouth slowly breaks out into the widest grin Gabriel’s ever seen. “This is one of the best presents I’ve ever received in my entire life!”

Gleefully Jesse pulls out his prize; a hideous buckle, gleaming gold under the rec room lights. Right there in the middle of the room with everyone watching, he starts to undo his belt. Realizing what Jesse’s doing, Gabriel tries to do his best not to blush. He has no idea if he succeeds or not. A couple minutes later Jesse pulls his hands away and juts his pelvis out forward a little as he stands proudly to show off his newest fashion accessory. 

The word ‘BAMF’ shines brightly at his waist, and it looks so fucking terrible and perfect at the same time that Gabriel can only feel immense relief at the sight of it. It suits Jesse completely.

“Well? How do I look?” Jesse asks, beaming at him.

Gabriel can’t help but laugh. “Like one hell of a lieutenant.”

A few people nearby whistle in appreciation at the sight. Jesse turns to them and winks, striking multiple poses as other agents pull out their phones and snap a couple candids. 

He looks so honestly happy. It’s been awhile since Gabriel’s seen him like this, so at ease with everyone around him. He hopes he can make it happen again.

Meanwhile, Gabriel makes sure to memorize every last detail of Jesse’s face in that moment. He wants to hold onto this silly image of him, keep it filed away in the part of his brain that holds all of his best memories. Jesse already stars in a good portion of them, but surely one more can’t hurt.

The kid must notice Gabriel staring and turns back to face him. It occurs to Gabriel that he’s been smiling just as hard as Jesse for the past five minutes. Awkwardly he coughs into his hand and tries to return to his usual commanding demeanor. “Anyway,” he says gruffly. “Congratulations, McCree.”

“Thanks, Reyes.” Jesse replies, not intimidated at all. His smile softens, but his eyes still radiate joy as he meets Gabriel’s stare with his own.

It’s a little intense to be the focus of such a gaze, and Gabriel scratches the back of his neck in a rare show of awkwardness. He needs to leave. He’s been here too long as it is. “Just don’t break too much shit tonight,” he says, looking away. “You’re leading a mission next week. Don’t party too hard.” He reaches out and claps him once on the shoulder before stepping away. “Have fun, Jesse.”

Jesse opens his mouth to say something in response but thankfully another agent decides on that moment to run up to Jesse’s side and start drunkenly congratulating him. Gabriel uses the distraction as an opportunity to make his exit. 

He only looks back once before he leaves to see Jesse looking around the room. Trying to find him in the crowd most likely. Gabriel ducks out before he can spot him again.

The lights are dim in the hallways outside. It seems as though every agent in Blackwatch is either dispatched, sleeping, or at McCree’s party. Gabriel doesn’t run into a single person on his way back to his room. The sudden quiet is almost overwhelming compared to the atmosphere in the rec room. 

Gabriel almost wishes he was back at the party. He thinks too much in silence.

But no matter how much he might want to, he can’t turn back. He’s Jesse’s commander. He has to maintain a somewhat professional distance at least.

He might have to remind himself a few times that night. He’s slipping.

In bed he lies awake, once again thinking of Larson’s comments about him and Jesse. Initially Gabriel had brushed the man off as simply angry and volatile, but the more he thinks about it the more conflicted he becomes. He hadn’t paid much notice before. He thought he’d been good, been impartial but… he does tend to favour Jesse when it comes down to it, doesn’t he? He didn’t mean to. _Doesn’t_ mean to. It just happens.

Jesse’s smiling face from hours ago flashes in his mind again. His soft brown eyes and kind, sincere smile aimed in thanks at Gabriel and only Gabriel.

Professional distance. Professional distance.

Sleep does not come easy that night. Or the night after.

Things need to change.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, the next couple updates are going to be every OTHER week because of some big life events happening within the next month. Sorry for the wait but thanks for understanding! Next chapter will feature Genji for those that have been hoping for it!


	8. Mystline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A newly promoted Jesse's first mission to Hanamura doesn't quite go how he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: blood, gore/body horror, smoking, aftermath of major surgery
> 
> Thank you to Alex and Mo-Mouse/Evi for beta reading as always!
> 
> ALSO! This fic officially has fan art now!! Check out the amazing drawing from chapter 6 by Nyang here: https://bit.ly/2Vvbi4Z

The bright lights of Hanamura illuminate the dim sky as Jesse watches from the hotel window. Three days he’s been here, but the novelty of the city’s natural beauty has yet to wear off.

“I always wanted to go to Japan,” Beckett, one of the greener agents on his squad says with awe beside him.

Further inside the hotel room, Degas rolls his eyes. “Well here you are then. Cross it off your bucket list. Now focus.”

“I am focused! What, I can’t admire the sights once in awhile?”

“Admire them when the job’s over. Or did you forget we’re about to bust the biggest yakuza syndicate in the country?”

“I haven’t forgotten shit. Maybe if you’d take that giant stick out of-”

“Enough,” Jesse cuts in sternly. “This isn’t the time for petty arguments. You were assigned this mission because you were deemed responsible enough. Step up and prove it.”

“Yes Lieutenant,” the two of them answer immediately, both looking a little embarrassed. Jesse shoots them both a small smile to put them at ease. 

“We can be bad tourists later. But let’s get this over and done with first, yeah?”

Beckett smiles back while Degas nods. The two of them immediately start looking over their weapons and gear again, making sure everything is in place. Meanwhile Jesse stares back out the window, focusing his gaze on their next target: Shimada Castle.

When Reyes told him he’d be leading a squad of his own on a big mission, he’d expected something a little more… exciting. Not that he isn’t grateful to come and work alongside Reyes’ team, but surveillance is always a little bit of a disappointment.

Especially when Reyes is taking down the Shimada-gumi about twelve blocks away. Jesse knows the man can handle himself but still. He’s worked alongside the commander for so long now that he just feels more comfortable when he’s beside him, watching his back and vice versa. They don’t expect the members of the Shimada family to put up too much of a fight, especially in a fancy public restaurant but there’s always a chance for things to go horribly wrong. The Shimadas have their fingers in more than one pie, and weapons trafficking is definitely one of them.

Despite Jesse’s concerns, Reyes’ orders were clear: Keep watch over Shimada Castle. Make sure no one slips out while the bust goes down, especially other members of the family. If they do, pursue nonlethally. They’ll need to round them up later once all the proper paperwork and warrants have been filed. 

Bureaucratic bullshit in Jesse’s opinion, but whatever. He does as he’s told and keeps staring at the gates. Every so often the other agents he’d placed around the surrounding area report back to him, all with the same update of nothing.

He wishes he could see what Gabriel is seeing at that moment. The commander seems distant lately. Usually on missions like this he likes to share some witty banter and at least one or two deadpan jokes for Jesse to snigger at under his breath, but so far he’s barely even said a word to him. In fact since Jesse was promoted it’s been nothing but straight faced seriousness. It’s a little worrying to say the least. Was Gabriel _that_ stressed about this mission? Or was it something else? And if it was, was it somehow Jesse’s fault?

He stews anxiously in his thoughts as another hour passes with nothing to report.

Jesse glances over at the clock on the wall. The Shimadas should be arriving for their dinner reservation with some business partners from another minor clan. Some big trade arrangement that will finally give the government (and more importantly, Blackwatch) a loophole to give them a chance to move in and take them all down at last.

Jesse scoffs at the irony of the situation. He’s heard this story before. 

Degas and Beckett are bickering again. This time it’s about training sim scores or something. Nothing Jesse finds himself overly engrossed in. With nothing better to do, he steps out onto the balcony to take his millionth smoke break of the night.

He only just manages to bring the flame of his lighter to the tip of his cigarette when he sees it.

There, in the distance, just peeking above the gates of Shimada Castle. Something twisting into the air, bright against the night sky.

Blue lights.

It doesn’t seem like much. Hanamura is one of the oldest cities in Japan, but it’s also one of the most advanced technological marvels this side of the globe. The richest family on the hill having some fancy lights wouldn’t be out of place.

But something isn’t right. Jesse can sense it in his bones. Looking at those twisting lights dancing through the night, he feels nothing but dread course through his veins. There’s something off, some inherent _wrongness_ in the air when he tries to focus on them. An unsettling metallic taste sours his mouth, and the hairs on the back of his neck rise as tingles of static prick at his skin.

He’s running back through the hotel before he can dwell on it any further. Tells his surprised teammates to stay put as he races out the door despite their confusion. On his way out, his other agents in the area start pinging him in protest.

_“Lieutenant McCree, the commander told us all to maintain distance, isn’t this against his orders?”_

“Just hold your positions. I need to check something out, I’ll only be a moment.”

_“But Lieutenant-”_

Jesse turns his comm off. He knows he shouldn’t, knows he should just stay put in the hotel. His feet won’t let him though. It’s as though he’s a man possessed, and this dark, foreboding feeling in his gut refuses to be ignored until he finds out what’s wrong.

He’s examined every inch of Shimada Castle’s gates for the past three days. He knows exactly which parts of it are the weakest against intruders and how to take advantage of them. He sneaks inside easily, careful to keep hidden from sight.

It’s much easier than it should be. There don’t seem to be any guards or security around, almost as though the courtyard has been purposely deserted. 

Jesse’s bad feeling intensifies. It’s far too quiet. He keeps his guard up and walks along the edge of the grounds, keeping to the shadows and corners of the shrines and walls around him.

Still, he sees no one. He hears no one. Part of him almost wants to walk right down the centre of the path leading toward the castle, just to see if anyone else would show themselves. 

He stays hidden, but the further he goes the worse he feels. 

Something bad has happened, he just knows it. He wishes he could talk to Reyes. He knows the commander isn’t anywhere near here right now, but his imagination has a tendency to run away with him. Gabriel makes him feel safer, more confident in himself. Maybe he’d be able to explain away the all-consuming dread Jesse feels in the pit of his stomach.

He looks around again. Takes in his surroundings to try grounding himself.

The Shimadas spared no expense when they built their fortress years and years ago. Built on the edge of a tall cliff, the castle is surrounded on almost all sides by a high wall, allowing for a beautiful view of the city from the main grounds. Between the edge of the main walkways and the wall however, there’s a sharp drop down into a lower courtyard. Falling from the main path would definitely cause some damage if a person wasn’t careful. All the more reason to avoid it and stay on the higher ground.

Jesse intends to. At first. There’s nothing to see that proves his trip has been worth the time. He lets out a sigh and turns away, ready to head back to the hotel and try to regroup. He’s going to get one hell of a lecture about leaving his post from the commander. No doubt Reyes will be extremely disappointed in Jesse for acting so dumb on his first lead mission.

Then he hears it. A soft sound, just barely audible in the heavy silence of the courtyard.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

Slowly, Jesse turns his head back. Thinks it’s water at first. Then remembers it hasn’t rained for days.

There’s a gap across from the platform he’s on. On the other side is the lower balcony of Shimada Castle’s main building. Moonlight reveals something shining on the railing. When he squints his eyes he sees it’s too dark and thick to be water. 

_Blood_. 

It drips from the railing down into a puddle in the courtyard far below. Jesse shouldn’t be able to hear it, but in such overwhelming silence he can focus on nothing else.

Slowly, he leans over to see what’s waiting for him below. His hands start to shake with every second. Whatever is bleeding down there and making his guts churn, whatever weird and ominous pull in the air made him come here; it’s at the bottom of the cliff.

When he sees it at last, he doesn’t understand what he’s looking at. Not at first. Then he realizes - All that dark blood is simply blending whoever is down there in with the dirt and shadows of the night. As Jesse focuses, he thinks he can make out what might have once been a white shirt, and a few patches of pale skin. The shape of limbs. Most of them, anyway.

Jesse doesn’t think, he only moves. A slightly larger incline nearby with some well placed rocks allow him to half slide, half slip down to where the body is. Jesse’s sure he’ll have some bruises tomorrow to remind him of his trip, but for now he pushes it to the back of his mind as his feet touch solid ground. 

Immediately he rushes toward the fallen victim, trying to comprehend what it is he’s seeing in front of him. 

Face down in a pool of blood, the person looks like they’ve been torn to pieces by a pack of wild animals. Chunks of skin are missing, along with most of their right arm and leg. Amid patches of blood and gore, Jesse thinks he sees short clumps of faded green hair. Judging by what’s left of the silhouette, Jesse guesses the person might have been male. 

They must have fallen just recently. Petals from the nearby cherry blossom trees are stuck to the bloody corpse, but don’t cover it entirely. Ten, fifteen minutes maybe. Jesse looks back up at the castle balcony. To fall from that height… he wonders if they were dead before or after they took their last trip. Wonders what the better option would be.

Jesse looks back down at the body just in time to see it’s remaining hand twitch, and barely manages to hold in a shriek.

A spasm. It has to be some kind of post-mortem spasm. There’s no way…

But then it happens again. Fingers tremble. Then slowly, very slowly, they curl. Jesse watches with morbid fascination as the injured man starts to bury his fingertips into the dirt beneath him. Then a grotesque gurgling noise escapes the man’s mouth, followed by a low, painful moan. 

Jesse turns his comm back on so fast it nearly shorts out on him. “This is Lieutenant McCree requesting emergency medical evac immediately! Lower courtyard of Shimada castle!”

 _“McCree?”_ Fio, the head of their support evac answers. _“What the hell are you doing in Shimada castle? You’re supposed to be outside on surveillance!”_

“There’s someone seriously injured over here, just get an extraction here now!”

_“Are you insane? Reyes said not to make any moves until after the bust, I can’t just move in because you say so! Especially to Shimada Castle!”_

The figure twists on the ground. Moonlight catches a large patch of blood staining the back of their shirt, and Jesse realizes there’s a familiar crest embroidered into the fabric. Well, there was. Half of it’s been ripped away with the rest of the man. 

Impulsively, Jesse steps closer to take a better look at the face.

_“McCree, are you hearing me? Get the hell out of there and maybe I can extract you and your squad but if there’s just some poor sap that didn’t pay their dues to the family on time I can’t-”_

“It’s Genji Shimada.”

_“That’s- Wait, what did you just say?”_

Jesse nearly snarls in frustration. “I said it’s Genji Shimada! And he’s bleeding out fast, so either get here right now or he’s a dead man!”

The comm goes silent. It lasts too long for Jesse’s liking. The hand in the dirt digs deeper.

Finally, _“Three minutes.”_

The comm goes quiet again. Jesse drops to his knees beside what’s left of the youngest member of the Shimada Family.

Carefully, he reaches out and places his hand over the back of Genji Shimada’s remaining one. Fingers suddenly stop trying to bury themselves in the earth. For a second, Jesse’s afraid that it’s the end. Then Shimada slowly, very slowly, turns his trembling, bloody hand and opens his palm. 

Jesse gets the hint. He moves his own and lets his fingers intertwine with Genji’s. The man squeezes his hand so tightly, Jesse thinks he’s going to cut off his circulation. He doesn’t care. 

Positions reversed, he thinks he’d like to have someone there to hold his hand when the time comes to face the dark.

As Genji clings to him and to life, Jesse looks at his face again. There’s something horribly, horribly wrong with his jaw, but it’s his eyes that draw Jesse’s attention. They aren’t looking at him. Instead they’re looking up at the sky. 

Curious, Jesse follows his gaze. 

The blue lights are so far away now. And yet Jesse can still make out their strangely hypnotic twisting forms. Still feels that same uneasy fear when he stares at them. 

He watches them with Genji until they’re no more than a speck in the sky, masquerading as just another shining star. Around them, the sound of the evac carrier grows louder and louder.

  
  


\--

  
  


Reyes is so furious he doesn’t even have words for Jesse when he meets him at the nearest Overwatch base in Busan. His expression says a thousand words though, and every one of them are a variation of “ _You Fucked Up”_.

Jesse gulps and braces himself as Reyes practically drags him into an empty meeting room. 

“Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done?” He asks, deceptively calm. “Do you?”

“He was going to die,” Jesse explains weakly.

“He’s most likely going to die anyway. You saw what was left of him. And now because of you sneaking in and drawing attention where we least needed it, the rest of the Shimadas left the restaurant without confirming their deal!” Reyes’ voice gets louder with each word. “And now after finding out that someone snuck into their home base - with an extraction team no less - they’ve reinforced their security and gone on the defensive! They won’t make any big moves for at least a year, which means we have now lost our best chance to take them down! The Japanese government and the UN are furious, and they have every goddamn right!”

Gabriel’s jaw clenches tightly. He gives Jesse a look that makes him feel about two feet tall.

“I thought you were better than this, McCree. I gave you orders and you deliberately went against them. Despite everything I’ve done for you after all this time, despite the absolute _trust_ I’ve placed in you. You left your squad to fend for themselves without a leader, abandoned your post, broke into the target’s home, and completely derailed a critical mission meant to take down an extremely powerful enemy. But hey,” he shrugs sarcastically “You bought Genji Shimada a couple extra painful hours of life. Congratulations.”

Jesse says nothing. There’s nothing he can say, really. 

Reyes swears under his breath in about three different languages. “Just tell me, McCree. Why? Why the fuck did you go to Shimada Castle at that moment? I know you’re not stupid so why would you risk everything you’ve worked so hard for? At least tell me you had a good reason.”

He doesn’t want to say. Knows it will be worse if he stays silent. 

“I had a bad feeling.”

Naturally, Reyes looks completely disappointed. “A bad feeling.”

Jesse nods. 

Reyes shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re suspended from all future missions until I figure out what to do with you.”

It still hurts, despite being expected. Jesse doesn’t meet his eyes. “And what about Shimada?”

Reyes reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut in frustration. “Luckily for him, Overwatch has deemed him important enough to warrant special attention. Ziegler is on her way as we speak while the doctors here try to keep him breathing in the meantime. If Shimada lives through the night, he’ll most likely be transported back to Zurich with her so she can try to help him regain consciousness.”

He pulls his hand away and levels another glare at Jesse.

“If, and it is a big _if_ , he’s not braindead by the time she’s looked at him, he might be able to give us some important information on the Shimada clan’s operations. I hope you’re praying for him, because it’s only in this best case scenario that you have a small chance of not losing your rank permanently.”

Jesse glares down at a stain in the carpet. He knew something like this would probably happen. Still, it makes him so fucking _mad_. Someone is alive because of him, isn’t that the point of it all?

“If it were me, you would have called someone to help too,” he says before he can stop himself.

Instantly, the temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees. It’s so quiet Jesse can hear his own heartbeat pounding.

Slowly, he dares to look up and meet Reyes’ stare. The commander’s expression is carefully blank as he looks back at him. 

“Well, it wasn’t you, was it?” Reyes says after a long pause. “But it could have been. If you had been there just a few minutes earlier, it could have been you mauled to pieces instead of him. And I wouldn’t have been able to do a single thing to save you.”

Reyes steps forward, his broad chest taking over Jesse’s line of sight. His muscles are wound up so tight, Jesse’s afraid he might accidentally burst. He thinks he sees him shaking, just a little.

Reyes leans in closer. Looks him square in the eye, so close Jesse can feel his breath against his skin. 

“And if that’s what had happened I would _never_ forgive you.”

Then he steps back and storms out of the office, slamming the door and leaving Jesse standing alone and unsure of what the hell he’s going to do now.

  
  


\--

  
  


He waits outside the operating wing in the hospital ward where Genji is being treated. He doesn’t know what else to do. The rest of the Blackwatch agents on the Hanamura mission have already left to go back to HQ, but Jesse missed that flight when he hopped a ride with Fio in the emergency evac. Reyes is too mad to give him orders, or even look at him for that matter, so Jesse figures now is not the best time to ask him where to go. Besides, he’s busy cleaning up the business end of Jesse’s mess.

So he waits. And waits. And waits.

He falls asleep for short, uncomfortable periods of time on the waiting room couches. Fills up on snacks from the vending machines when he can. Tries counting dots in the ceiling.

Finally, nearly ten hours later, some doctors exit from the operating hall. Among them being congratulated enthusiastically, is Doctor Ziegler.

She looks exhausted to the bone, but offers a small smile to her fellow surgeons, saying something in korean that has them all bowing and smiling back.

Jesse rises from his chair. Hopes to catch her eye and is glad when he does. Doesn’t even mind that awkward, chilly gaze he’s come to expect from her when she sees him.

Ziegler says something to the others again and they start to disperse. She walks toward Jesse, clearly doing her best to appear calm and professional. 

“Agent McCree. What are you doing here? I thought all Blackwatch agents had returned to Canada already.”

Jesse shrugs. “Caught the wrong flight. Thought I would check in on your newest patient while I’m stranded.”

Her lips purse and she looks like she wants to say something snide, but keeps it to herself. “He’s stable. It took just about every resource we had available, but he’ll live. I’m sure you’re commander will be pleased when you report it back to him.”

Jesse scoffs. “ _Pleased_ ain’t exactly the word I’d use. Pretty sure he’d rather the poor guy just kicked it back in Japan. Would have meant a lot of other bad guys going down with him.”

The doctor inhales sharply and doesn’t bother hiding her frown this time. “I’m sure Commander Reyes would rather a lot of things, but alas, life goes on. Especially for Mr. Shimada in this case.”

Jesse can’t help but crack a small smile at that. “Is he awake?”

She shakes her head. “He won’t be awake for days. When he is, he will most likely be in much pain, no matter what drugs he’s given. We had to remove a great deal from him in order to save him.” Her eyes lower to the floor. At last, exhaustion seems to start physically weighing on her shoulders. “It will be a great shock, I imagine.”

It’s an awkward moment between the two of them. Ziegler always makes sure to keep an air of superiority around Jesse at all times. It’s her own personal makeshift armor against him and the other Blackwatch agents who try to undo all her hard work. Seeing her look so blatantly tired and weary is… unsettling.

“You did what you could. At least he’s alive.”

At first she doesn’t respond. Then a slight nod. “I... heard a rumour.” She bites her lower lip. “Someone mentioned that you were the one who found him and called for his extraction, despite Commander Reyes not wanting you to. I didn’t think much of it at the time but… Is it true?”

He fidgets with his hat, not meeting her stare. “Don’t worry, Reyes is going to give me one hell of a punishment for it when we get back to HQ. You might never have to see my ugly mug again after this.”

She says nothing at first. Then quietly, “I hope that’s not the case.” 

As Jesse shoots her a confused stare, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “Thank you. For helping him. I did what I could but it would have been for nothing if you had not got him out of there in time.” She opens her eyes and meets Jesse’s gaze head on.

“It might just be one life to Commander Reyes, but to me even one life is worth saving if there’s a chance. That you decided the same thing… It appears I may have misjudged parts of your character. Thank you, Agent McCree.”

Unsure of how to respond, Jesse just nods awkwardly. “You did all the hard work in the end, doc.” He tries for a small smile. “And it’s Jesse if you don’t mind.”

They’re both quiet for a minute. Then Ziegler clears her throat and starts to try fixing loose strands of her hair back into her ponytail. “You may see him if you’d like. You can’t go into his room, but there’s an observation window. He’ll be there for a few hours until he can be safely moved back to my lab in Zurich.” She pauses, hand still in her hair. “And...you can call me Angela. If you wish to.”

Jesse smiles and tips his hat to her. “Thank you kindly, Angela.”

Her cheeks redden a little, but he doesn’t bother dwelling on it as he walks past her toward the operating hall.

Genji Shimada’s room is at the very end of the hallway. Two heavily armored Overwatch agents stand guard outside his door. They eye Jesse up as he approaches, but ease off when he points out his Blackwatch insignia. Still, it’s obvious Angela was right about no one being allowed inside. 

He peers into the window to see the result of her hard work. When he does, he nearly gags. 

Somehow this version of Genji frightens Jesse more than the mangled and bloody version he’d stumbled across the day before. It’s so… clinical, despite the horror of what’s been done to the man.

There’s some kind of pump inserted in the right side of his chest that rises and falls with a horrible compressing noise. A makeshift lung, perhaps. Jesse looks on. 

Genji’s lower jaw is gone. Half his face is wrapped in bandages, and there are multiple tubes shoved down his throat and nose. Patches of hair on his head have been shaved away, revealing hundreds of tiny stitches and staples holding his skull together. His right arm and shoulder are missing, and there are no less than four needles taped into his left. 

The hospital blanket thrown over his waist weakly attempts to conceal whatever work has been done down below. There’s no mistaking the sudden drop though. Both of Genji’s legs are gone, removed a little higher than where his knees should be. The rest is left to Jesse’s imagination. He’s not sure if that’s better or worse.

He’s certain the horror on his face is showing, but the agents by the door pretend not to notice. They must feel it too. At least they can stand with their backs turned. Jesse can’t look away no matter how hard he tries. And as he stares at what remains of Genji Shimada, he wonders...

Did he really do the right thing in the end?

  
  


\--

  
  


Jesse flies back with a couple new Blackwatch recruits poached from Overwatch while Reyes stays behind for a few extra days. Apparently there’s still more bureaucratic details that need to be discussed with his superiors.

Thankfully since the recruits are new, they don’t know that Jesse’s up shit creek without a paddle yet. He doesn’t have to deal with any stares or whispers the rest of the way to Blackwatch HQ. It’s a small comfort, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

The downside is that all the quiet on the flight home gives him too much time to dwell on the memory of Shimada in the hospital. He’d heard talk that Ziegler was going to attempt to rebuild most of his body with prosthetics, but how much could she possibly do? Judging from what Jesse’s seen, Genji will soon be waking up to a bad horror movie starring himself. Whoever he was before that fateful night, he’ll never be the same again, that’s for certain.

Jesse tries to imagine what it would be like to wake up alone in a foreign land and be missing so much of yourself. For a moment he thinks he might be able to relate just a little, then decides that he’s being ignorant. Really, how could he possibly relate to Genji Shimada’s horrific situation? How could anyone?

He should have just let him die. Should have just held his hand and let him go quickly. Everything would probably be better if he had. 

Him and his god damn naivete. Nearly twenty five and Jesse still thinks like a fucking child sometimes. He never did take the time to think about consequences.

His foul mood must be obvious. For days after he returns, no one comes near him if they don’t have to. Rumours start to spread though, gossip from other agents on the Hanamura mission. It’s not long before everyone on base finds out that Jesse’s royally fucked himself over.

Larson’s happy at least. The captain seems to be having the time of his life reveling in Jesse’s misery as he assigns him mountains of paperwork to go over now that he’s grounded from active duty. A few of Larson’s more loyal agents seem to enjoy it as well, walking around with especially smug looks when Jesse’s nearby. Ivanov has never looked so happy in months.

Jesse doesn’t care. All he can think about is that thing, that _ghoul_ he saw in the hospital bed, and how he’s the one who helped put it there. 

Smarmy looks are the least of what he deserves. He fills out the paperwork without complaint.

A little over a week passes since he touched back down to HQ. After another day of filling out hundreds of densely worded forms and reports, Jesse shuffles back to his room in the barracks. Sleep hasn’t exactly come easily since the Hanamura mission, but he has nothing else to do. 

Trying to prepare himself for another long, uncomfortable night, Jesse’s surprised when he turns the corner and finds none other than Commander Reyes standing with his arms crossed in front of Jesse’s door.

“McCree,” he says with a brisk nod once he notices him. At least he doesn’t sound nearly as angry as he had the last time Jesse saw him. 

“Commander,” Jesse replies, raising a quick salute. 

Reyes motions for him to drop it, frowning. “Sorry. I understand it’s late, but I needed to talk to you. May I?” he nods to Jesse’s door.

It’s rare for Reyes to search him out rather than call him to his office, but Jesse doesn’t bother dwelling on it. Immediately, he steps in to punch his keycode in. The doors slide open and Reyes goes inside without hesitation.

Jesse has no doubts in his mind that the commander is able to open all the dorm rooms without permission and could have comfortably waited inside instead. He appreciates the polite gesture anyway. 

Still, now that Reyes is in his room he becomes acutely aware of every little mess that’s gone unnoticed until now. Clothes on the floor, empty bottles left on shelves, half a spilled ashtray on his bedside table…

At least he put his more _suggestive_ things away. Reyes finding those would have been fucking mortifying to say the least.

“When did you get back?” Jesse asks, hoping to distract the man from the sty that is his room.

“About an hour ago. Had to deal with a few more things before I could get approval to leave.” He runs a hand over his goatee tiredly. He looks like he’s had about as much rest as Jesse, probably less.

Biting his lip, Jesse sits down on the edge of his unmade bed and stares at the floor. “Fallout from the last mission?”

Reyes shrugs. “Something like that. Lots of calls and meetings with Morrison and the UN too. We did technically smuggle a man out of the country without any proper paperwork.”

Jesse snorts. He can’t help it. It’s so like Morrison to get hung up on bullshit like that. No doubt Reyes got most of the blame for Jesse’s fuckup then. “I see they’re really focusing on the important issues.”

Reyes’ lips curve into a small smile while his eyes travel over to the decorations on Jesse’s wall - A framed diploma, a few posters from concerts he’d seen with Fareeha, and random photographs of him and past teammates. Nothing particularly interesting or exciting. 

Reyes stares at a photo of Jesse back in his first year of probation with Blackwatch for awhile before he finally looks back at him and sighs. 

“I need to apologize to you.” 

“What?” Completely caught off guard, Jesse’s certain he makes a dumb face. “The hell makes you think that?”

Dropping down into the chair next to Jesse’s desk, Reyes reaches up and tugs off his beanie. His hair looks damp from sweat, but no less touchable. 

“I’ve been looking into things in Hanamura. The deal we were hinging everything on for the bust, at first I thought they cut it short because you tipped their security but that wasn’t it at all. You had nothing to do with it. The reason the Shimadas left early is because the older son killed the younger. They wanted to make sure the mess was cleaned up quickly and congratulate him.”

Jesse stiffens in place. “ _Congratulate_ him?”

Reyes grunts tiredly. “Apparently Genji Shimada had a little too much free spirit for the clan’s liking. He was reckless, enjoyed fucking around with the lower classes, and skipped out on one too many clan meetings. The family thought he might let too much important information slip to the wrong person, and decided he had to go. So Hanzo Shimada cut him down.”

It’s not right. If that’s what the case was, Genji should have just gotten a bullet to the brain or maybe a slit throat. But all Jesse can see in his mind is that hospital room. That mangled creation of needles, tubes, and missing body parts.

“His _brother_ did that to him?”

Reyes nods. “Luckily with everything happening so suddenly we were able to cause some distractions and plant a decoy in the morgue to keep the clan from learning the truth. As far as they’re concerned, Genji Shimada is dead.”

It’s supposed to be a comfort. 

It’s not.

“...He should be.”

It’s Reyes’ turn to look surprised. “Jesse?”

He digs his fingers into the meat of his thighs. “He should be dead. I saw him right after Ziegler worked on him the first time. Or I saw what was left of him. It ain’t right.” He swallows a lump in his throat but it doesn’t go away. 

“I should have just let him die. Now he’s...he’s…”

He doesn’t even realize his eyes are wet until Reyes moves next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself.”

Jesse shakes his head, furious at himself despite Reyes’ words. “You said it yourself, I should have just stayed at my post. He was gonna die anyway, you were right about that, but I fucked everything up and now some kid is waking up as a fucking mangled corpse for the rest of his life. I did that to him! As much as his piece of shit brother, I did that to him too!”

“Jesse, no.” Reyes’ large hand squeezes his shoulder tightly. “You saved his life. That’s not something to be taken lightly.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said. I was wrong. I was angry that my mission failed.” His dark eyes soften as they look down at Jesse. 

“But mostly I was scared you were nearly killed too. And when I saw you were fine, I was even more angry at you for making me worry. But in the end you saved someone that didn’t deserve to die. You don’t need to punish yourself like this.” Reyes swallows.

“You did good, Jesse.”

Gently, he reaches over and pulls Jesse into a one-armed embrace. Jesse can’t help himself. He clings to the back of Reyes’ shirt like a lifeline and buries his face against his broad shoulder.

“You did the right thing. You always find a way to do the right thing, it’s just part of who you are. It’s one of the best things about you.” Reyes murmurs quietly. “And maybe I lashed out at you because part of me is jealous that I can’t seem to do the same.”

Jesse scoffs, refusing to move from Reyes’ side. “Bullshit. You always make the right call, ask anyone.”

Reyes doesn’t respond for a moment.

“Not always.”

He squeezes Jesse’s shoulder again. Holds him close while Jesse tries his best to stop sniffling and blink the wetness out of his eyes. 

He’s not sure when, but eventually he falls asleep like that, leaning against Reyes’ side. It’s the best sleep he’s had in ages.

  
  


\--

  
  


Things return to somewhat normal in the following months. Jesse returns to active duty, his rank still in place, Larson continues to lord his position over the others like an asshole, and Reyes continues to command Blackwatch all to the best of his abilities. Life goes on. 

Then one day Jesse is casually informed that Captain Amari in Overwatch has requested his assistance in Zurich. The Strike Commander’s approved Jesse’s temporary loan with his official seal and everything, so it’s not like Jesse (or Gabriel) has much choice in the matter. 

He’s shipped off almost immediately and thinks nothing of it. Not until he meets Genji again. 

  
  



	9. Push and Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse makes a friend. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter include: mentions of suicide, stabbing, blood, violence.
> 
> Thank you to Alex for beta-reading! Also, we have finally reached the point where I no longer have a backlog to publish so updates might be a bit more erratic from here on out. The next chapter is about halfway finished though, so hopefully I can keep to the two week intervals. Thank you to everyone who has been so kind in commenting and kudos-ing, you guys are fucking amazing and I hope the rest of the story can live up to expectations. 
> 
> This story also has fan-art now! Check out this awesome piece by by Nyang here: https://bit.ly/2Vvbi4Z

It’s a little anticlimactic to be honest. 

Ana had asked Jesse to check in on the status of her latest order of biotic rounds in the medical labs. It’s nothing out of the ordinary from the usual errands he does for her when he’s on loan, so he heads in without even thinking about it. 

It’s been nearly four months, other things have been on his mind. A man in a wheelchair being pushed outside of Ziegler’s office is nothing out of the ordinary. 

The two beefy guards standing beside him are a little odd, but then again Overwatch as a whole is sort of odd in Jesse’s opinion. 

He only takes a quick glance at the guy out of habit - Reyes had drilled observation techniques into his head for years now, he can’t help it. Then he freezes. He knows this man.

Genji Shimada’s new prosthetics look as good as can be expected from Overwatch’s medical staff. If a regular person was just looking from afar, they probably wouldn’t even notice anything off at first. Someone has crafted his arm and jaw well from what Jesse can see, and he’s sure the feet must be just as good too. They’d done their best to match Genji’s skin tone and blend his new parts with the old. It’s a good effort. 

Not perfect though. Nothing will ever completely replace the original, after all. By the glare in Genji’s eyes, he must think the same. 

Or he could just be pissed that some stranger is staring at him like he’s a circus attraction. 

“ _Take a picture asshole,_ ” he says sharply as his large, unfriendly looking attendants wheel him away. Jesse’s japanese isn’t quite as good as his french or spanish, but he knows enough to get the point. 

Jesse stares after them as Ziegler opens the door and calls him inside. 

“I see he’s made quite the recovery,” Jesse mumbles, heading into her office. 

Angela just sighs. “For the most part.” She sits down behind her desk and taps on her monitor. “He still has a long way to go and not much desire to get there.”

No shit. “Nice job on the prosthetics. You do those?”

“Sadly, prosthetics are not my area of expertise. Agent Lindholm assisted a team of very skilled prosthetic engineers for Mr. Shimada’s work under my request, however. Now, enough about my other patients.” She smiles kindly. “What can I help you with, Jesse?”

He gives her Ana’s order. As much as she disagrees with the technology Ana uses, Angela reluctantly lets him know she finished them that morning. Jesse thanks her on the captain’s behalf and agrees to wait patiently for a moment while she steps into the next room over to pack up the rounds for him. 

As soon as she’s gone, he turns her monitor around to face him and brings up her most recently opened file. Sure enough, Genji Shimada’s name pops up on display, along with a small blurb about his most recent visit to Angela. 

Jesse has maybe a minute, a minute and a half at most to glance over the doctor’s latest report. It’s bad of him. He knows. It’s probably against a couple laws to be looking at someone else’s medical file but Jesse’s never exactly been an upstanding citizen before, why start now?

It’s informative to say the least. Apparently Genji is depressed, full of anger issues, refuses to eat, doesn’t speak to anyone if he doesn’t have to, antagonizes the medical staff, and puts minimal to no effort into his physical therapy. 

There’s also a part noting that he’s on suicide watch. Jesse immediately regrets snooping and closes out of the window, turning the monitor back to where it was. 

Angela comes back with Ana’s order in her hands. She hands it off to Jesse with a disapproving look - she’s never been a fan of Ana’s medical tactics, and sends him on his way.

He pauses before he leaves. He’s curious. 

“Genji Shimada… is he taking visitors?”

Angela raises her eyebrow. “Maybe? No one other than the Strike Commander and myself have really visited him without being scheduled. The medical staff tell me he’s not exactly friendly, and the government agents that tried to speak with him say the same. Why?” She asks, narrowing her eyes critically. 

Jesse shrugs. “Saw him on the way in, think I left a bad impression. Figure I should apologize.”

Her expression softens a little. “Very well. You can try if you’d like but if he tells you to leave, I’ll ask that you respect his wishes. Wing twelve, room four.” She huffs quietly. “Who knows, maybe a somewhat familiar face will help him. Just be calm and polite.”

  
  


\--

  
  


“ _Fuck off, Cowboy_ ,” Genji mutters from his hospital bed when he sees him.

Jesse smiles sweetly from the doorway. “ _Surely you can think of better insults?_ ”

It catches Genji’s attention at least. He looks Jesse over a moment. “Huh. You look too stupid to speak japanese. Surprising.”

Jesse shrugs. “I’m learning. Still can’t write good though.”

Genji sneers through his fake jaw. “Your english sounds no better. What do you want? Come to ask pointless questions about my family’s operations? Or are you just here to stare at the freak some more?”

“Neither. Just wanted to talk. It’s been awhile.” Jesse steps inside, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he does, one of the guards outside opens it again.

Jesse must make a face because Genji snorts. “They must think you are here to kill me. As if I would be so lucky.” He shifts slightly, getting a better look at Jesse. “What do you mean by ‘awhile’?”

Jesse barely opens his mouth when Genji’s expression suddenly darkens. “Wait... Ah. I remember you now.” His fist clenches in the hospital blankets. Jesse carefully maintains his distance. “I thought that awful accent sounded familiar.”

He figured Genji would react like this. Not like he expected the man to thank him after what he’d woken up to after all. 

“Name’s Jesse McCree.”

“Hm. And what do you want, Jesse McCree?” Genji asks carefully, looking at Jesse as though he was imagining how best to tear him apart. “I have nothing to give to Overwatch. I’ve told your Strike Commander everything I can.”

“I’m not Overwatch,” Jesse explains. “Different division. I just wanted to see how you were doing since… well, since last time.” He shifts his feet awkwardly. This is a weird conversation; definitely not what he’d expected to be doing when he woke up that morning. “I uh. Wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? What for?” Genji asks innocently. “For not letting me die? I have so much left to live for. Can’t you tell by my perfect body? By my loving family and friends surrounding me now? Or is there something else you’d like to apologize for? If there is, please tell me how your sad words will fix what’s been done to me, I’d really like to know.”

Jesse nods his head, absorbing Genji’s biting comments without complaint. Sarcastic asshole. “Right. Fair enough.”

Genji shoots him an icy glare that would no doubt kill a lesser man. 

“ _Get the fuck out_.”

Despite what some people think, Jesse isn’t stupid. He tips the brim of his hat and gets.

  
  


\--

  
  


The following visits are about as successful as the first. Genji tolerates Jesse’s presence for about five minutes while throwing verbal barbs and insults at Jesse before he kicks him out. 

The guys outside his door must think he’s some kind of masochist. Still, Jesse’s determined. He doesn’t know what he’s doing exactly, only that he needs to keep doing it. Part of him feels... _responsible_ for Genji now. As much as he wants to give him a good smack across the face every time he insults him, he can’t help but remember the shaking boy in the dirt clinging to his hand. 

Besides, even if he doesn’t look forward to putting up with Genji’s foul attitude, it’s worth it at the end of the day when he checks in with Gabriel. 

It’s nothing much. Short reports to brief his commander about what he’s been up to. A requirement he has to fill whenever he’s on loan to Overwatch. But even if it’s only a few minutes, it’s worth it to hear Gabriel Reyes’ low voice asking how he’s doing. 

He tells him about Genji. He has to, Jesse hides nothing from Gabriel. 

“I’m glad you’re trying to befriend him. That’s a very Jesse McCree thing to do,” Gabriel says one night from the other end of the call monitor. “Truth be told, the guy could probably use a friend in a time like this. But Jesse, don’t let him get away with treating you like crap. You need mutual respect in a friendship, and if you keep letting him talk to you like you’re an idiot, you’ll never get it.”

“He’ll get over it eventually. He’s pretty pissed at me. Well, at everyone. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. He got a second chance because of you. If he’s going to get better now, he can’t be treating the people trying to help him like garbage. Set him straight. You don’t have to talk to him like you’re better than him, but you’re just as damn good. Don’t let him forget that.”

Jesse smiles, he can’t help it. Gabriel has a way of making him feel like a million dollars without even trying. 

“Thanks, boss. I’ll do what I can.”

“Tell Ana she owes me big for letting her borrow you for this long. I have important work meant for you here the second you get back. Now get some rest.”

Jesse salutes him and grins, the warm fluttery feeling in his chest staying long after the call ends. 

The following day, he brings some comic books up to Genji’s room. Genji calls him childish and kicks him out immediately. 

Jesse ponders bringing him a movie tablet but can already see the shattered pieces in his mind. 

He asks him if there’s anything he wants to help pass the time. 

“For you to walk off a cliff.”

Remembering Gabriel’s words of encouragement, Jesse decides he’s had about enough.

“Look man, no one else wants to spend any more time with you than they absolutely have to. If you wanna sit here and stare at the ceiling all day while acting like a little bitch, that’s fine. I just thought maybe you’d like to pass the time doing something somewhat entertaining.”

Genji glares at him. Either it’s losing its edge or Jesse’s building up an immunity. Besides, after Gabriel’s fury, nothing really comes close in terms of intimidation. 

“You absolutely infuriate me you ignorant ass! it’s _your_ fault I’m even here like this!” Genji snaps, leaning up in his bed. 

“Is it?” Jesse asks, humming. “I mean, yeah, I called for help to keep you alive so maybe you can blame me for that if you want, but pretty sure I’m not the one who stuffed you in a woodchipper. Blame that guy maybe.”

Genji’s new jaw clicks unpleasantly. He must be clenching his teeth. “I’m going to tear you apart limb from limb. Then you can be the one to lie here all day while some drawling idiot tortures you with their presence!”

“Hmm.” Jesse feigns interest in the threat. “You’d have to get out of that bed first. From what I hear, you ain’t anywhere close.” Feeling brave, and maybe a little insane, he steps forward and pokes the shape of Genji’s big toe under the hospital blanket. 

His prosthetic foot twitches. Nothing close to the kick he’s no doubt trying to slam into Jesse’s face. 

Jesse pulls out his best smarmy Larson impression. It’s pretty spot on. “How’re you gonna kick my ass if you can’t even stand up?”

Genji’s new jaw fails to blend in against the angry red of his face. Jesse can almost see cartoon plumes of steam coming out of his ears. He smiles sweetly. In for a penny and all that.

“Well, I only got about two months left here anyway. Then I’m back to my own HQ for god knows how long. You only have to stand my idiot presence until then. I’ll be busy after that, so good luck trying to tear me apart from the other side of the world.” He shrugs and waves. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your busy schedule. Later.”

Whistling cheerfully, he saunters out of the room and pretends not to notice the guards giving him dirty looks outside, or the shattering noise of something being thrown in Genji’s room. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Jesse’s inbox dings about an hour later as he rides with Ana on their way to a small field ops mission. A message from the desk of Dr. Angela Ziegler. He opens it, expecting her usual wall of formal text. Instead, there’s only four words, bolded.

**What. Did. You. DO?**

  
  


\--

  
  


Just because Genji wants to beat him to a pulp doesn’t mean Jesse’s going to stop feeling responsible for him. Besides, Morrison’s been rumoured to be back on base wandering the halls that morning, and Jesse can think of no better place to avoid him than in Genji’s room. 

He brings his movie tablet with him. A small apology. Hopefully he’s wrong and Genji will let him keep it in once piece.

When he gets there, the two guards outside the door immediately tell him to get lost. 

“Dr. Ziegler says you’re not allowed to aggravate her patient anymore,” the taller of the the two says sharply.

“Me aggravate him? Little ol’ me? Come on now.”

“Get lost, McCree,” the other butts in, crossing his arms. “We’ll remove you by force if we have to.”

Jesse holds up his hands in surrender and starts to back away. 

“Tell that stupid cowboy to come in,” Genji calls from beyond the door.

All of them freeze for a second, confused. Genji swears in japanese and shouts out again. 

“I said, get in here! 

Cautiously, Jesse steps past the angrily confused Overwatch agents and into the hospital room. Genji stares at him from his bed. He doesn’t look any friendlier than he has before. Jesse maintains his distance. 

“What do you want?” Genji asks bluntly. 

Jesse shrugs. “Honestly? To not talk to the Strike Commander today. Figured he wouldn’t stop by here if he didn’t absolutely have to.”

Genji narrows his eyes, trying to measure Jesse up. “And what exactly made you think I’d let you in here?”

“Nothing really. But I figured it was worth a shot.” He scratches at the stubble on his chin. “Also.. I wanted to say I’m sorry I was such a dick yesterday. The doc is mighty pissed at me if it’s any consolation.”

Genji scoffs. “More apologies. Pathetic.” He shifts up, meeting Jesse’s gaze head on. “She’s angry because I made her book me extra physio sessions.”

Jesse’s brow furrows. “Why’d she be mad about that?”

“Because I’m going to break your face before you leave and I can’t do that if I can’t move.” Genji frowns. “She heard my reasoning and didn’t like it.”

Ah. That explains it. “Yeah, she’s not much for violence. Prefers trying to see the good in people and talk things out.” She’s probably taking back her earlier reassessment of Jesse though.

Genji grunts. “She’s been kind so far.”

“She’s a good person. She tried her best to save you when they brought you in. Looked ready to collapse when she was finished.” Jesse shoves his hands in his pockets, looking away awkwardly. “She really didn’t want you to die.”

Genji’s quiet for a moment. “I know.”

The silence lingers a little too long. Jesse clears his throat. “So, extra physio classes huh? How’s that going for you?”

“Why don’t you come closer and find out?” Genji asks dangerously. 

Jesse raises his hands, grinning. “Hey now, that’s good news. It means I won’t have to worry about taking it easy on you when I kick your ass.”

“Underestimating me would be your downfall, cowboy. By all means, continue to do so.”

Jesse winks at him and flops down in a chair next to Genji’s bed, pulling out his tablet and bringing up a list of movies.

“Ah yes, make yourself comfortable why don’t you,” Genji mutters. “Did you mishear me when I said I’m going to destroy you?”

“Naw, I heard you fine. But you’re gonna destroy me in months, while I need to avoid Morrison today. Besides, that new Glitchbot movie is out and I hear it’s total garbage. I gotta see it.” Jesse tilts his head in Genji’s direction. “You mind? If you really want me to leave, I can get lost.”

Genji says nothing. Then he shrugs his shoulder. “You can stay. For now. But don’t think for a second I’m not still picturing my fist in your face.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Now shut up, it’s starting.”

  
  


\--

  
  


They’re not friends, exactly. But somehow there’s a temporary truce between them. 

Genji doesn’t kick him out as frequently when Jesse comes to visit anymore. He’s not especially friendly, but he seems to tolerate Jesse’s continued presence at least. Jesse offers small gifts when he comes, nothing impressive but usually something for Genji to pass the time in between recovery sessions. 

Genji stands after a week. He slowly walks after two. Angela is stunned to say the least. 

“What did you _do_?” She asks Jesse again, passing him in the hall near Genji’s room. “He made one of my physical therapists quit when we first started, and now he’s making progress that shouldn’t be possible.” She shakes her head, mouth agape. “How badly did you anger him that he wants to hurt you this much?”

Jesse shrugs. “What can I say doc? Spite’s a mighty powerful motivator.”

She looks at him like he’s crazy. Maybe he is a little. Still, at least Genji’s not a potato anymore so he chalks it up to a win. Even when Genji shows him how he’s learning to make his prosthetic hand into a fist.

There’s still bad days. At least once a week Genji refuses to speak to anyone, Jesse included and breaks whatever is within his reach. Angela usually has to come in to deal with the problem after that. 

Still. The bad days happen less and less as the weeks go by. They talk more. Jesse tells Genji about Blackwatch, and shares a couple stories from past missions, both funny and sad. Genji doesn’t share nearly as much, but he lets slip a few games he used to play, places he liked to go. 

Nothing about his family, but Jesse doesn’t bother digging into that subject.

They’re not friends. But maybe they could be.

Nearly two months pass. Genji makes leaps and bounds in his physiotherapy, though not quite so literally. He can do almost every basic human function now at least.

“You wanna go get something to eat?” Jesse asks one day, hiding out in Genji’s room again. Ana’s personal squad has to write medical exams every six months to maintain their spots on her team and Jesse’s been given the answer key and orders to mark some of them for her. If he has to read the same response one more time, he’s going to crack. “Mess hall ain’t far from here.”

Genji scowls from behind the comic he’s reading. “I’m not eating in front of people.”

“That’s fine, you can sit next to me and watch me eat then.” Jesse pushes the pile of tests away from himself. “Come on, aren’t you bored of seeing the same three rooms over and over?”

Silence. That’s a yes then. 

“I’ll show you the training centre after. We can make fun of the new Overwatch recruits trying to show off. Trust me, nothing’s funnier than seeing some official’s hot-shot rich kid get their ass handed to them by one of the vets.”

Genji stays quiet. Jesse huffs.

“Fine. You can practice how you’re going to beat me up on one of the training dummies. I promise I won’t tell Ziegler.”

At last Genji nods. Slowly, he pulls himself up and out of bed, balancing onto his feet. He shakes a little from the strain but it’s still an impressive feat considering how recent his injuries happened. Jesse walks a little slower to keep pace with Genji, but not by much.

Jesse had loaned Genji one of his old hoodies and a pair of sweats a while ago when it became obvious Genji was tired of the same old hospital clothes. He wears them now, long cuffs covering most of his fake limbs, while the hood is pulled up to cover his short hair and some of his scarred face.

Jesse chats idly about some stupid thing Larson had made him do a few missions ago as they walk. Beside him, he knows Genji is glaring at anyone unfortunate enough to pass them by but Jesse pretends not to notice. 

Genji doesn’t like being in the mess hall, that’s for certain. Jesse can almost feel the tension rolling off his shoulders as they wait in line together. It’s almost like there’s an imaginary forcefield around them from the way people are moving to give them space.

All the more room for him then. Jesse loads up his plate and guides Genji over to a vacant table at the edge of the room, not a care in the world. 

“It’s not so bad once you come here enough,” Jesse says through a mouthful of his sandwich. “It’s big enough that everybody kind of gets lost in the crowd.”

“People are staring,” Genji mutters. 

“Probably because you look like you wanna eviscerate someone. You don’t exactly give off a friendly vibe.” 

“I don’t need friends” Genji scowls. “Now hurry up and finish eating so I can destroy you.”

“Geez, let me digest first. I’m not leaving for like five days, there’s still plenty of time to beat me up after I enjoy this fine BLT.”

“Sounds to me like you’re stalling.”

“Quit trying to bait me, man. Food first, punching second.”

Genji rolls his eyes but lets Jesse finish without any more complaints. 

He nods his head in mock interest as Jesse launches into another story about the time he took a long lunch break once and accidentally showed up for the wrong mission to London a few years back. Jesse does his best impression of Morrison’s exasperated face, and miraculously a small noise that might be considered a chuckle escapes his companion.

He keeps filling the air with fun little stories and jokes until at last, Jesse drops his napkin on his plate and stands up. 

“Well, shall we?” He asks, turning around and walking right into an Overwatch agent behind him, their food tray clattering to the floor and spilling everywhere.

“Oh shit, sorry about that,” Jesse apologizes quickly, reaching out to steady the guy. “Here, let me-” 

“What the fuck, McCree?” A familiar voice answers. Right away Jesse wants to sigh. Naturally it’d be one of the idiots he’d beaten in a sparring demonstration that morning. One of the newer recruits with a hair trigger temper. Neuman maybe? He has no luck. “You want an ass-kicking that badly?”

“Oh fuck off tough guy, it was an accident. I said I was sorry.”

Neuman steps in closer, a couple of his buddies right behind him. “You wanna start shit, man?”

Jesse remains unimpressed. “Seriously? Is this because I laid you flat out in this morning’s training demo? Get over yourself, it’s _training_. Now I said I’m sorry for bumping into you, and I’ll clean up the mess, what else do you want?”

“That demo was bullshit! Let’s go again, see who puts who on the floor this time!” Neuman snarls loudly, stepping closer to try and crowd against Jesse. A stupid intimidation tactic. Reyes would laugh. Around them, the room seems to go quieter, more and more people turning to see what’s happening. 

“What is this, a schoolyard brawl? You wanna kill me or kiss me, Neuman?” Jesse teases, grinning smugly. “Cause I gotta tell you you’re not really my type.”

Disgust takes over Neuman’s face. He figured it would. “Shut up you little fag!” Neuman spits as he forcefully shoves Jesse back with both hands. “You’re ass is mine!” Jesse almost wants to laugh as he raises his arms to defend against the punch he can see coming a mile away.

Except right as he’s about to hit Jesse, something slams into Neuman and suddenly he’s on the floor howling in pain. 

Jesse instantly lowers his arms and gapes at the scene. Genji has Neuman pinned to the floor. His left elbow is jammed into the centre of the other man’s rib cage, holding him in place while his right twists the plastic knife Jesse had forgotten on the table deep into Neuman’s exposed neck.

Someone nearby shrieks as blood starts to spurt out from around the wound. Neuman’s friends swear and scramble back in horror while Genji shoves his knife in further. 

“Genji stop! Get off him!” Jesse shouts, dashing closer to try pulling him away. 

He barely manages to touch Genji’s arm when senior Overwatch agents suddenly surround them and pull them all apart, shouting orders to get down on the ground. Alarms sound while someone quickly calls Athena to get medics down to the mess hall immediately. 

Someone has to physically pry Genji off of Neuman. Jesse hears a familiar snarl as Genji immediately goes on the defensive and starts swinging at the agents trying to hold him down. Jesse hears a sickening crunch and sees Genji stumble to the ground as his right leg prosthetic is smashed in at the knee. 

It only slows him down a little. He trips the attacking agent with his left and quickly straddles them, raising his arm in a motion Jesse recognizes from back when Reyes showed him how to gouge someone’s eye out with his fingers. 

“Genji stop!” Jesse begs desperately. “Don’t!”

Genji pauses. 

Then promptly drops to the floor. 

As agents surround them again and cuff Genji’s arms back, Jesse spots a familiar dart sticking out of the back of Genji’s left shoulder and breathes a sigh of relief.

Captain Amari steps into view as she holsters her dart gun and quickly drops down next to Neuman. A moment later the warm glow from a biotic capsule surrounds his injuries. “This one to Ziegler. This one back to his hospital room,” She says with utmost authority to the swarming medics as she points to Neuman and then Genji. Rising from the floor, she glares sternly. 

“This one,” she says, pointing to Jesse. “My office. Now.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Jesse feels like he’s back in elementary school, being scolded by the principal for fighting again. It’s worse now though, because he actually respects Ana, and having her tell him his behaviour was nothing short of irresponsible actually makes him feel a little guilty. 

She suspends him from all current Overwatch activity. “Until this mess is sorted!” she’d said, shaking her head at him in disappointment. 

At least he doesn’t have to grade any more papers. 

Alone in his room, scowling at the ceiling, Jesse nervously waits for the call he knows is coming from Gabriel. When it finally happens, it takes three rings on the holoscreen before he finally musters up the guts to answer.

“Stabbing an Overwatch agent, really kid?” Gabriel asks tiredly.

Jesse huffs indignantly. “Hey, I was just gonna clock him in the face like a normal person. Shimada only just got the hang of wiping his own ass again, I didn’t know he was gonna jump in and give him a tracheotomy!”

Gabriel hums. “Maybe you should consider yourself lucky. He might have been holding that little secret to use on you if you weren’t careful.”

“He was gonna beat me up, not poke me full of holes.” Right…?

“He didn’t let on to you that he could move like that? At all?”

Jesse shakes his head, feeling embarrassed under Gabriel’s hard stare. “No. Like I said, it seemed like he could just barely walk on his own. I wouldn’t have invited him out into the cafeteria if I thought he was gonna hurt people.” He gnaws on his lower lip. “But I mean, in his defense, the other guy swung first. I think Genji thought he was backing me up. Just, y’know, yakuza assassin style.”

Gabriel doesn’t say anything. At least he doesn’t look angry. He sighs and nods. “I’m sure he was. Still, I’m calling you back to Blackwatch right away. Even despite all this fighting bullshit, you’ve been gone long enough. I need you back here to help out with some more leads on Talon with Gerard. He’s certain we’re getting close to cracking their operation open, we just need a couple more big pushes, and I can’t do that with one of my best agents away.”

Jesse blushes. He hopes the holoscreen doesn’t show it too much. “Ready to go as soon as you need me, Commander.”

Gabriel nods. “Good. I’ve already talked this out with Ana, you leave in an hour. Get your things, and don’t be late.”

He reaches to turn off the signal but Jesse interrupts him. “What about Genji? Any word on what’s gonna happen to him?” Jesse feels partially guilty after all. The guy had just been standing up for him, after all. 

Gabriel frowns. “That’s not your concern right now, Jesse. Ana and Jack are deciding what to do with him. They’re the ones in charge over there.”

That’s not exactly reassuring news. “He was trying to help me, Gabe. He’s going through a lot, but he was trying to do what he thought was right.”

“I know, Jesse.” Gabriel’s voice softens a little. “But it’s not up to me.”

“I know but…” Jesse searches for words, for something that could explain the situation to Gabriel. Let him know that Genji just needed an outlet for all that anger, that it’s not fair to punish him for finishing a fight he didn’t even start. 

“Jesse. It’ll be ok. Just get your things and come home. Ana and Jack aren’t heartless, and they definitely aren’t stupid. They’ll be reviewing everything before they make a decision about Shimada. Take care of yourself first.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”

The screen goes blank. Jesse sighs and leans back in his chair. What a day. 

They don’t let him talk to Genji before he leaves. He figured they wouldn’t. Still, Jesse quickly scribbles out an unsealed apology-slash-goodbye letter and leaves it in Angela’s office. Whether she’ll actually pass it on or not, he’s not sure but he figures she’s his best bet. 

The ride home is long and uneventful, and Jesse’s limbs feel stiff once they finally touch down, but at least he’s back where he belongs. 

Gabriel’s there to greet him too, which is a nice bonus that does wonders for his mood. 

For awhile, it’s like Jesse had never left. His schedule is already filled to the brim with training sessions and mission briefings, reports that need to be filled out, etcetera etcetera. He goes on an undercover gig in Dorado for a week, then a clean-up job in Rio a few days later. 

He doesn’t hear anything about Overwatch that concerns him much. He hopes Ana isn’t still mad at him. 

Gabriel keeps Jesse so busy that he doesn’t have much time to think back on his little stint in the Overwatch base, until about three months later when he’s scheduled for a private training session with a new recruit.

Expecting some military buff that Gabriel poached from the ranks, Jesse doesn’t think much of it when he shows up to the training room. 

He takes a couple steps inside and drops like a rock as someone slams into him, introducing his face to the floor mat. 

“Too slow, Cowboy,” A familiar, yet more...mechanical voice says to his ear.

Jesse manages to twist out of his assailant’s hold and kick him off. He rolls out of reach and back onto his feet. Across from him, ready to fight stands an omnic - no, not an omnic. 

Genji Shimada. 

Jesse can’t see his expression - the lower jaw previously made for him has been covered by a dark grey faceplate that only allows Jesse to see his eyes now. Still, despite the eerie red that seems to glow from them, Jesse thinks Genji might be smirking at him.

“Ready to get that ass kicking I promised you?”

Jesse frowns. Then he sighs and puts up his fists. 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

  
  



	10. Into Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Reyes butt heads, Jesse learns some new information, and a friend goes missing in the midst of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I definitely missed the mark on my posting schedule, but this chapter is like twice as long as most of the others, so I hope it makes up for it. Action scenes are really hard ok? Unbeta'd for speed reasons, I hope the quality remains to standard. Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and leaving kudos and comments, they really do mean the world to me. You are the actual best.
> 
> This story also has fan-art now! Check out this awesome piece by by Nyang here: https://bit.ly/2Vvbi4Z
> 
> TW for this chapter include: briefly attempted McGenji, drugs, violence, blood, strangulation, mentions of torture.

So Blackwatch has a new ninja cyborg assassin. Great. Awesome. Not a problem at all, Jesse’s not concerned in the least about getting a ninja star thrown in his face.

He’s a little jealous of how cool Genji looks now though. Just a little. 

Genji must have told whoever made his new prosthetics not to bother with trying to mimic realistic limbs any more. Instead his jaw is now made of a dark grey metal, carved like the lower part of a skull. His limbs are made of the same material and obviously mechanical. Red and black tubes are attached between parts, for what Jesse has no idea. To top it off, Genji has knives strapped to the back of his ankles. The general look is just so...

_...Edgy_.

Reyes must have fucking loved it. No wonder he agreed to sign him on to Blackwatch.

At least Genji is somewhat over his whole ‘Kill McCree’ phase, because so far Jesse is still breathing and in good shape. Their newest agent still doesn’t talk much, but when he does it’s mostly short, sarcastic sentences. Once in awhile, a joke or two can even slip out, but they’re somewhat far and in between. 

Still, Jesse is glad to see Genji is (somewhat) okay. He likes him, he really does, and it’s nice to have him with the team. 

That’s what he tries telling himself as he narrowly avoids being kicked in the groin. Again. 

“I think your stamina has lessened, McCree,” Genji taunts as they exchange dodging blows in the training sim arena, weeks after Genji has officially been signed to Blackwatch. “You’re moving like an old man.”

“I’m only two years older than you, asshole!” Jesse shouts back, He rolls to the side and takes a shot with the sim weapon. 

Genji dodges easily, countering with a wide spread of ninja stars flying towards Jesse. One skims Jesse’s arm, and even though the training ones are only made of some kind of weighted foam, he still winces from the sting. 

“Stay still, would ya?” Jesse mutters as he tries to dash behind cover, taking a couple pot shots behind him. 

He just barely manages to duck low behind the stack of crates the sim had created earlier, when the top crates explode from the impact of Genji kicking through them. He lands on the other side to face Jesse. 

Immediately Jesse throws a stun grenade from his side - a new tactic he’s been practicing while trying to figure out how to beat Reyes. He’s been getting faster and faster at throwing them. 

Not fast enough yet. Not even close for Genji, who unsheathes his sword in the blink of an eye and knocks Jesse’s trick shot right back at him. 

The flash burns his retinas and he instinctively reaches up to cover his eyes. Genji wastes no time in slamming a knee into Jesse’s gut and pinning him down to the floor. 

“Match End,” Says Ares over the simulation intercom. “Victory to Agent Shimada. Defeat to Agent McCree.”

“Yes, thank you Ares,” Jesse grumbles. 

“You are welcome Agent McCree. Would you like me to set up a rematch?” the AI asks. 

“How about it, McCree?” Genji asks, no doubt having the time of his life with Jesse at his mercy. “Another round?”

Jesse scowls. Genji’s face is close enough to his own, a headbutt should do the trick. He just has to-

“I think that’s enough training for now, Agents.” 

Both Jesse and Genji turn their heads at the sound of Gabriel Reyes’ voice. From Jesse’s tilted view, the commander has his arms crossed and seems unimpressed. Jesse realizes how bad it must look for him - one of Reyes’ so called “top agents” pinned down by the new guy. Real great. The commander must be so proud. 

“Get off of agent McCree, Shimada.” Reyes unfolds his hands, glaring. “You’re both needed for a mission briefing immediately.”

“Yes Commander,” Jesse replies, squirming out from under Genji to rise to his feet. Genji on the other hand takes his sweet time to stand. Reyes notices and narrows his gaze.

“Quicker on your feet next time, Shimada.”

Genji returns his glare. “Sir, yes sir,” he replies flatly.

Reyes grunts and turns back to the hallway, leaving them alone again. 

Jesse groans as his shoulders lose their stiffness. “Come on man, don’t piss him off. I already do that enough!”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. Ignore him. Come, let’s go to this meeting we’re so desperately needed for.” 

They put away their training weapons and head out together. The meeting ends up being just another briefing for the investigation into a potential Talon lead. Nothing particularly vital, mostly just tracking and observation for now. 

Genji looks visibly bored the whole time. Gabriel wears a scowl.

When everyone filters out at the end, Jesse sees the commander motion for Genji to stay back. Jesse's seen that look enough to know his friend is about to get another intense lecture about the importance of manners.

He doesn't stay to eavesdrop, but he does wait outside in the hall for Genji and Reyes to finish. It's only a couple minutes, but when the doors open and Genji appears again, Jesse can see the angry tension in his shoulders. 

“You alright there?” Jesse asks. He knows Genji’s pride doesn't take well to Reyes’ criticism on the best of days.

Genji doesn't say anything. He glances behind him as Reyes steps out of the office then turns back to Jesse. 

“I’m fine. Thanks for waiting, Jesse.” 

That's weird. Genji almost never calls him by his first name. Weirder still is when Genji slings his arm over Jesse's shoulder and starts walking with him down the hall. “You know, if you want to work on your stamina for this next mission, I think I know a few ways to help you out.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“Any time.” 

Jesse wonders if Reyes thinks this is as strange as Jesse does, but when he turns his head back, the commander is already halfway down the hall.

  
  


-

  
  


The weirdness from Genji continues over the next few weeks. He's taken to touch Jesse more often now, leaning against his arm when they're on the rec room couches, stealing his hat and messing his hair, resting his feet over Jesse's lap. The list goes on. 

Reyes is in a foul mood lately too, and Jesse has no idea why. Half the recruits are too afraid to talk to him unless they absolutely have to, instead dumping all their questions and concerns on Jesse to pass along. 

At one point Jesse and Genji are sent on a small scale search and destroy mission to disarm a bomb in Ilios. Genji moves a little too fast and there's a short firefight before they're able to finish the mission. It's nothing new, nothing unusual if not inconvenient, but Reyes loses his shit on them for nearly getting caught on camera. Jesse is used to owning up to mistakes by now, but Genji is obviously furious about being talked down to. 

He leaves to destroy a few training sim levels and reunites with Jesse in the rec room later, gracelessly flopping down beside him on the couch while a movie plays on the holoscreen.

They say nothing for awhile - both of them are comfortable enough with each other now to not feel the need to fill silence. There’s no one else in the room but them. Eventually, about three quarters into the movie, Reyes enters the room. Jesse perks up immediately and waves. The commander catches Jesse’s eye and nods before heading toward the minibar.

As he watches Reyes bend over to dig through the mini fridge, Jesse feels a light prodding at his arm. He turns and finds Genji tracing the outline of his Deadlock tattoo.

“Nice ink,” he says nonchalantly. “Got any more?”

Jesse's cheeks turn red. “You know I do.” Genji was one of many who had already roasted Jesse pretty hard about his not-so-secret tramp stamp.

Genji hums. “Well, if you ever want to add to the collection I'm sure I could help you out. I used to have a few of my own you know.” He moves his hand up further, lightly prodding at Jesse's bicep. “You’d look good with a sleeve, I bet.”

“You think?” Jesse asks, looking down his arm. True, the Deadlock brand doesn’t exactly do him any favours… but he doesn’t know if he could ever cover it up with anything else. It’s a big reminder of how he got to where he is now. 

Across the room, Reyes doesn’t even spare them a glance, still focused on whatever is in the fridge.

“Mmhmm. You should come up to my room later tonight. We can do some research on it, maybe find something you'd really like on you,” Genji insists.

The whole room feels odd, like there's some thick tension heavy in the air, but Jesse doesn’t know how to make it go away. He could swear Genji is trying to flirt with him if he wasn’t also ninety nine percent certain that Genji had no interest in him that way whatsoever. 

And sure, Jesse's messed around with a couple guys in the past few years, but never with anyone he would call a close friend. Nothing with any real emotional attachment. There's only one person he'd be able to take that risk for, and it's never going to happen in a million years.

“Sure?” Jesse answers, hoping Genji will just drop it so they can go back to watching the movie. 

Reyes slams the fridge door shut. Without a word he turns and leaves the room with nothing.

Jesse stares after him in the empty doorway, disappointed. He’d hoped maybe Reyes would sit and hang out for a bit. “Guess he didn’t see anything he liked,” Jesse mumbles.

Genji drops his hand and scoots back away from Jesse on the couch. “Guess not. Shame.” He sounds far too satisfied as they both turn back to the screen.

  
  


-

  
  


Jesse does go up to Genji’s room later, not because he's really interested in trying to find a good tattoo design, but because Genji had asked him to and he'd like to stay on good terms with him. Genji isn't particularly close with anyone else on base, and Jesse takes a small ounce of pride in being considered his friend. 

They end up sprawled out over Genji’s bed, wasting the time away by scrolling on their phones. 

“I'm surprised. I didn't actually think you'd come,” Genji says, sounding bored.

“Why wouldn't I?” Jesse shrugs, liking a picture of an overly fat cat on a very tiny chair and forwarding it to Amelie. “We're friends, right? Besides, I like hanging out with you.”

“Hm.” 

Genji sits up and stares at Jesse for a long moment. “Jesse. Look at me.”

Lowering his phone, Jesse does as he's asked and meets Genji's surprisingly intense gaze. Slowly, Genji shifts over closer to him, staring him down all the while. Jesse doesn’t move. When he's close enough to almost be touching, Genji leans over him and rests his hand on the other side of Jesse's head.

Jesse knows what's coming next but it doesn’t make it any less weird as Genji leans down and presses his lips to his own. The cool metal of his lower jaw is a strange contrast to the warmth of his upper lip. Not bad, just… strange.

Without really thinking about it Jesse tries to kiss back but he must do something wrong because Genji pulls back immediately. 

“This is weird.” he narrows his eyes at Jesse as though blaming him for the awkwardness.

Jesse raises his hands, palms up. “Hey now, you kissed me first.”

“Yes but usually the person I'm kissing is eager to get some action. You're not interested in me at all.” He hums. “Is it the prosthetics or did I read you wrong and you’re only interested in women?”

“What? No! To both of those things!” Jesse sputters, scowling. “Oh what, am I really supposed to believe you're seriously into me too?” 

Genji frowns, moving back to sit cross legged beside Jesse. “No, not really. You’re right, mostly I'm just bored and tired of feeling so... _inhuman_. You're the only one I can tolerate here, so…” He shrugs. “My apologies.”

Guilt eats away at Jesse, despite knowing he’s done nothing wrong. “Sorry… it's just that you're like my best friend, and I don’t know, I'm just-”

“-in love with Commander Dickface?” Genji asks, bored.

Jesse's face heats up. “Shut up! And don’t call him that!” 

Genji smirks. “Hit the nail with the hammer, did I?”

“It’s ‘ _hit the nail on the head_ ’. And so what?” Jesse mutters. “It’s never happening. _If_ I was into him, which I mean is really nobody's business whether I am or not, and you know what, even if I was I don’t-”

Genji snorts, far too amused with the situation. “Relax, McCree. I won't say anything.” He flops into his back. “You shouldn't count yourself out though. Things might not be as one sided as you think.”

“Quit bullshitting me Shimada, you’re not that much of an asshole.”

“No? How else can you explain the commander getting so worked up over me flirting with you? Neither of you are very subtle. It would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic and sad.”

Jesse scowls. “He didn’t get worked up about anything, he’s just under a lot of stress from this Talon bullshit. Morrison and the board come down on him pretty hard over the dumbest things you know.”

“Jesse, I've literally only been flirting with you while he was watching. I was trying to get back at him for being such a stuck up asshole to me, and it worked. He likes you, you fucking moron.”

That...that can't be right. Can it? 

Then again, Reyes has been extra picky lately over the smallest things, and Genji’s behavior is really the only thing that had changed...

“You really think he’s into me?”

Genji rolls his eyes. “Yes. I do. Now can we please talk about something else? This is getting boring.”

“Oh no, you opened this door and we’re in this together now. So... did he say anything to you about me?” Jesse teases.

Genji kicks him out. Spoilsport.

  
  


-

  
  


Jesse mulls over Genji’s words. Despite how much he doesn’t believe him, a small part of Jesse is curious. Plus its been a while since he and Reyes spent any one on one time together. It can’t hurt to just check in on him right?

He just hopes the commander’s mood is better as he knocks on his door, trying not to drop the two mugs in his other hand. 

The door slides open and Reyes’ large, angry form fills the frame of it. “Do you have any idea what time it-” he pauses, surprised. “McCree? What are you doing here?”

Jesse hands over the large mug. “Figured you'd be up burning the midnight oil again. I see I was right.” He grins, letting himself in. Reyes doesn’t move to stop him as he plants himself on the edge of the bed.

He’s surprised to see Reyes’ room out of its usual order of utmost cleanliness. By that he means there's a few books and papers on the end table, not on the shelf, and his hoodie is strewn over the back of a chair instead of in his closet. Some music is playing from his computer, an older crooning country song more up Jesse's alley than Reyes’. 

“Wow. You must be real fucking stressed. The state of this place, my God.” Jesse deadpans, sipping at his hot chocolate.

“Oh shut up,” Reyes says, though there's no real bite to it. He even cracks a smile for a second as he sits down in his computer chair. “I've been up to my eyeballs in this Talon crap. Gerard is relentless, I'm just glad he's on our side.”

Of course. Jesse was right, it was the Talon thing that was stressing Reyes out. “Any leads for us yet?”

“I think so. Were on the verge of finding their main headquarters, i just know it. Gerard is working day and night on it, and once we find them they're as good as gone.”

“Good to hear,” Jesse grins. “I’m sick and tired of chasing these assholes. Can’t wait to be done with the lot of them.”

“Heh. That makes two of us.” Reyes’ smile drops after a second, and he clears his throat. “Surprised to see you here tonight though. I was under the impression that you and Shimada were going to be… busy.” He looks down into his mug, apparently fascinated with it’s contents. 

Jesse can’t help but hear Genji’s words from earlier. Is it true? Was Reyes actually jealous? Or was he just uncomfortable with the idea of his agents fucking around with each other? If so, Jesse had some bad news for him about most of Blackwatch.

“Nah, Genji’s cool but we were just hanging out. As friends. Because that’s all we are y’know - friends.”

“Really?” Reyes sounds unconvinced. “Listen, if the two of you are hooking up, it’s none of my business, but if you’re in a relationship with another agent that means there’s paperwork you’ll need to file and-”

“I’m not fucking Genji boss, I-” Jesse pauses for a second. Thinks about saying it. Then chickens out “I’m serious. I promise.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “In fact I um... I sort of have my eye on someone else.” 

Reyes stops, surprised. At last, he meets Jesse’s eyes. “Oh.”

Jesse nods. “Genji uh. Genji just wanted to give me some advice on the matter.” He scratches the back of his head. “In his own way, that is.”

“I see.” Reyes takes another sip. “So you and Shimada are…”

“Just friends. Like I said.” Jesse offers him a smile. “He’s not my type anyway.”

Reyes nods. “Oh. That’s. That’s good.” He coughs. “You know, less paperwork and all that. Makes it easier for everyone.”

Jesse nods slowly, still smiling at him. “Yeah. Exactly.”

A tense moment of silence follows. It’s as though both of them have something to say, but neither know exactly how to say it.

Reyes looks at war with himself as he shifts in his seat. Jesse’s never seen him look so awkward before. Meanwhile, all Jesse can think of is Genji’s words repeating themselves over and over in his head. 

_You shouldn’t count yourself out._

_Things might not be as one sided as you think._

_He likes you, you fucking moron._

Jesse opens his mouth and decides to take a fucking chance instead.

“The person I’m into, he’s the tall, dark, and handsome type,” He says. Tries to keep calm as his hands shake. “Has my back and lets me have his.” He looks Reyes in the eye and dares to be a bit cheeky. “Older man, y’know?” He winks.

He’s never seen the commander’s face turn such a shade of red before. 

“...Oh.” 

Jesse watches intently as Reyes’ throat bobs as he swallows. There’s a pause that seems to last an eternity and Jesse wonders in horror if he’s overstepped. 

At last the pause ends as Reyes’ embarrassed expression changes to serious one. Rising from his chair, the Commander sets his drink down on his desk and takes a step forward. Jesse clutches his own mug so tight he think he might accidentally break it. Reyes takes another step, and Jesse slowly stands up to meet him.

They’re so close that Jesse can see the little flecks of gold in Reyes’ eyes. Can feel the heat from his broad chest, even through his shirt. The music from Reyes’ computer plays on, and Jesse’s breath trembles as he opens his mouth. He should tell him. He’s already gone this far. Now’s as good a time as ever right? Fuck it, he should just say it. It’s now or never.

“Reyes, I-”

A shrill alarm cuts through the rest of Jesse’s words. Suddenly Ares’ voice surrounds them, commanding their attention. 

“Commander Reyes, you and your best operatives are urgently needed in the main boardroom immediately. Agent Lacroix has called for an emergency mission. He has requested that you hurry to the meeting point as fast as you are able.”

Reyes is already grabbing his hoodie and moving toward the door, Jesse in tow. “What’s the emergency, Ares?”

“Apologies, Commander. I cannot give exact details but it appears that Talon has abducted Amelie Lacroix.”

Both of them freeze for a second. Then Reyes steps aside to follow as Jesse starts running.

  
  


\--

  
  


Gerard looks absolutely haggard when they meet him in the boardroom. No one else is in the room, though the rest of Reyes’ best agents arrive within minutes. 

“It’s my fault,” Gerard whispers when Reyes moves to his side. “I should have been there. She wanted me there, and I told her I couldn't go. It's all my fault…”

“Stop that. This is Talon’s doing, not yours. Now tell me what happened so we can get out there and find her.”

Gerard seems as though he’s in a daze as he tells them. Amelie was starring in a new Swan Lake production. She’d asked Gerard to make the trip back to Paris to come see her perform on opening night, but he’d insisted he was close to a breakthrough on Talon and had to sit it out. 

There was a fight, and she'd been angry. They hadn’t spoken for a couple days. According to a friend of hers, she was supposed to go to an afterparty once the show was over, but her limousine never arrived at the destination. No one had seen or heard from her since. Her phone had been found in pieces on the road about two blocks from the theatre.

“If I had just been there with her, she’d be fine. I didn’t even think… I'm such an idiot!” Gerard sobs, clutching his face in his hands. 

Reyes puts his hands on his shoulders and stares him down, mouth set into a stern line. “Enough of that. We'll find her. Jack's already on the move I assume?”

Gerard nods. “Him and Ana left as soon as I found out.”

“Good. We're going to work together and find her, don’t worry.”

The rest of the agents Reyes had called wait at the back of the room, ready to move at his command. Even Genji looks like he’s taking the situation seriously. The commander turns to them and nods. “We leave for Paris in ten minutes. Get what you need and be on the aircraft by then, or be left behind. There’s no time to lose.”

Jesse is the first one on board. His favoured revolver and gear are quick and easy to equip, and he finds himself wishing they would leave sooner. He’s not even in the mood to be flippant when Larson sneers at him across the helicarrier.

For the duration of the flight they go over the search plans. Reyes is already communicating with Morrison about where to investigate. Overwatch is currently searching the dance theatre and home of the Lacroix's, as well as the route Amelie should have taken. Blackwatch is given clearance to check the rest of the city.

Reyes splits them up and sets them loose as soon as they land.

  
  


\--

  
  


For days they search everywhere. Every underground parking garage, every warehouse, every surveillance camera within 50 blocks of the theatre.

They find nothing. Not even a trace. 

They hole up in a few Blackwatch safehouses in Paris to do some recon work, handfuls of agents spread out over separate districts. The hope is that working separately will help cover more ground. So far it’s just been a lot of staring at screens and trying to find some kind of a witness for Amelie’s abduction.

“Fucking hackers,” Reyes curses after three straight days of searching. He swears again under his breath as he watches footage of a limousine reaching its destination without a hitch - a doctored recording from a different date.

Jesse watches the video with him for the millionth time and scowls before standing up. 

“And where are you going?” Reyes asks, still staring at the screen.

“I need a fucking smoke.”

Reyes grunts. “Hurry back.”

Jesse rolls his eyes in annoyance and heads out. He’s going insane. His friend is missing and three days later they still have nothing to go on to find her. Not to mention both him and Reyes have become irritable over the lack of sleep since the search started. The moment they’d shared between them in Reyes’ room is a long and distant memory now.

Jesse shoves the door to the apartment’s fire escape open and leans out over the balcony to light up. 

His thoughts are so muddled by the anger and stress of the past few days that he barely notices the kids in the street fucking around with their skateboards. 

He stares at them for awhile, trying not to snicker too loud when one of them wipes out on the pavement. Then he realizes one of the other kids filmed it and is replaying it, much to the other kid’s unamusement.

Jesse narrows his eyes and lets the ash from his cigarette fall in a clump on his shirt. Then he drops it from his mouth and stubs it out with his boot before running back inside. 

“I need to look something up,” Jesse says as he rushes back into the monitor room. 

Reyes looks at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugs and stands up from the computer. “Help yourself. Think I need a smoke too anyway.” 

Jesse nods but doesn’t look at him as he takes over Reyes’ seat. “Cool. Thanks.”

Reyes heads out without another word as Jesse brings up a popular video posting site and starts looking up skateboarding tricks in the nearby area. 

  
  


\--

  
  


“I think I found something,” Jesse says to Reyes as he runs into the living room ten hours later. He’s so excited that he doesn’t think to look around and barely registers that he’s interrupted some meeting between the commander and Captain Larson. 

The captain scoffs and folds his arms. “Did you now? Care to elaborate?”

Jesse shoots him a glare and turns toward Reyes. “Listen, I was looking up a bunch of videos on HoloTube and-” “Really? You’re wasting time in a crisis like this to slack off? McCree, you have some nerve to-”

Reyes raises a hand to cut Larson off. “And?”

Jesse takes a breath and swallows. “And I think I found some footage of the limo Amelie was taken in. There was an omnic playing a violin about three blocks away, and someone filmed her on their phone. The timestamp it was posted matches with the estimated abduction time.”

Reyes narrows his eyes and sets his mouth into a hard line. Beside him Larson sneers.

“And what exactly does some random street performer have to do with this investigation, agent? Because it sounds to me like you’re reaching for something that isn’t there.”

McCree turns to Larson with a snarl. “I’m not finished! The asshole filming her thought it would be funny to kick the dish she was collecting money in out into the street! She ran after it and nearly got hit by a limo! They honked the horn and drove around her, but she looks at the car as it drives away.”

Larson rolls his eyes. “And this helps...how exactly?”

Jesse grits his teeth, physically restraining himself from smacking his captain across the face. “Omnics can record video, can’t they? Don’t you think that maybe, _just maybe_ , if this one was almost hit by a car she’d try to record the license plate, or anything else about it?”

“Only certain models have that capacity, and they are heavily restricted due to potential privacy invasions. If this omnic is busking for money, I sincerely doubt it has the hardware to record any vital moments to it’s memory.” Larson’s usual irritatingly self-satisfied smirk returns to his face. “Sounds to me like you’ve just been wasting time and resources.”

“She’s still worth talking to!” Jesse turns to Reyes, knowing he’s the only one he needs to convince in the end. “I looked into who she was, wanted to find out more about her. She’s not just a busker, turns out she’s a popular underground DJ too. She’s playing at a club called Sanctum tonight. It’s set up in this old abandoned church near the omnic slums. If we can find her and talk to her, maybe we can actually get a lead on where they took Amelie!”

Reyes seems to ponder the idea silently. Beside him Larson shakes his head, looking at Jesse as though he were the village idiot.

“This is a reach, McCree. And I can see what you’re trying to do here. We’re all working our asses off trying to find Mrs. Lacroix and you’re looking for an excuse to party and get wasted. I’m not buying it. Stop wasting the commander’s time and start looking into something actually useful for once.”

Jesse knows he shouldn’t let it get to him, but he’s running on fumes, and bad coffee. His temper is a little short lately. “And what the fuck have you found then, huh?” he snarls, louder than he means to.

Larson grins, and Jesse wants to punch his teeth out. “A lead. A viable lead, I’ll have you know.”

“Bullshit.”

"McCree," Reyes says sternly, giving him a warning glance. 

Beside him Larson smirks. "I've found a witness while you were wasting time. He has real information that will help this investigation far more than some street entertainer can."

"What witness?" Jesse snaps. "What makes you think this guy is the best lead for us then, huh?"

"Not that I’d usually divulge such important information to _you_ , but one of Mrs. Lacroix’s fellow dancers saw the limo as well, and is willing to speak to me and the commander about it. Now why don’t you go back to watching your movies? You're obviously not interested in helping where it matters."

"Listen here you fu-" Jesse stops as Reyes reaches out and grabs his shoulder.

"That's enough, McCree. You too Larson, antagonizing our own team is not helping!" Reyes glares at the both of them. "I understand we are all tired and eager to find Lacroix, but arguing among ourselves is not helping anyone. Enough of this.” He glares sternly at both Jesse and the captain. Then he lets out a deep, weary sigh. 

“Larson, I'll meet you in the bay in a moment. We'll see if this witness of yours has anything to say."

Larson's smug look makes Jesse want to scream every profanity he knows. 

"But Commander, I-" 

"You’ve said enough." Reyes says sharply. Larson looks like he’s on the verge of laughing as he leaves the room. As soon as he’s gone, Reyes' tone lightens a little. "You and Shimada go investigate this lead of yours while I check Larson's. If you find anything, message me directly, understand?"

Jesse's chest seems to lighten. He smiles confidently and nods. "Yes, Commander."

"Good. Now go."

  
  


\--

  
  


Sanctum is not like most of the bars and nightclubs Jesse has seen before. Just finding it had been somewhat of a hassle. It seems to be a pretty underground place for the more outcast members of society lately. Mainly, omnics and those who saw them as equal members of society. 

There had been a few in Deadlock. Not many, but a few. They’d mostly been backup muscle for Pa from what Jesse can remember. Aside from having a few more engraved tattoos, they’d looked almost identical to the bouncers standing outside Sanctum’s front doors.

“I miss my swords,” Genji mutters as they walk toward the entrance of the church. A visor sits over his eyes, and he has some extra plating covering his left arm and chest. Jesse hopes he’s not too bitter over being disguised as an omnic. Besides being an easier costume to construct, having an omnic with Jesse would hopefully convince the bouncers to let them pass without issue. 

“I know, buddy. Still, you got your little star thingies right? You’re not totally naked.”

“I’ll give you a _little star thingie_ right between the eyes, asshole.”

Jesse raises his hands in surrender as they saunter up towards the doors. One of the bouncers motions for them to halt.

" _We're here for the show_ ," Jesse says in french with an easy smile. Beside him, Genji nods.

The bouncer looks them over slowly, their four optical sensors boring into them. Jesse gets the feeling they’re skeptical. 

Jesse opens his mouth to try playing up some charm but Genji puts a hand on his shoulder and passes the bouncer a fake ID with a few bills under it. " _We're just here for a fun night out. That's all._ "

The bouncer looks at Genji’s hand on Jesse's shoulder for a moment, then hands him back his ID, this time without the money.

" _Go on in_."

The other bouncer pushes the door open for them and they step inside. The muffled beat of the music thrums as they walk into the entrance hall. A few people and omnics are scattered around with drinks as they converse, paying Jesse and Genji no mind. Another set of graffiti-covered doors wait at the end of the hall. As they step through them, the music becomes so loud Jesse can barely hear himself think. 

The old church is packed with people and omnics dancing. On the edges of the room, vandalized wooden pews have been pushed together to create a sitting area where people lounge about sipping from colourful drinks, and dangling joints between their fingers. He sees a girl drop a pill in her mouth before leaning over to make out with another woman beside her, and keeps moving. 

Up where an altar should be, a DJ booth is set up. "L.A-L.A" is spray painted on the walls around it. The omnic Jesse's looking for stands behind the booth, working her magic. Surrounding the makeshift stage, a crowd is gathered, excitedly shouting her name as they bounce to the beat.

"There she is," Jesse says. "Let's go."

They push past the throngs of bodies as bright neon lights flash around them. Genji fits right in with his glowing red tubes and sleek mechanical body. His eyes give his visor a red glow as well, and more than a few omnics turn their heads his way in blatant appraisal. In comparison, Jesse looks much more reserved in his black jeans and tank top. He’s thankful he left his hat behind or he'd certainly lose it in the heavy crowd.

They usher themselves over near the corner of the stage and scan the area while formulating the best course of action.

"Okay, when she's finished this song, that's when we approach. I’ll do the talking. Sound good?" Jesse asks.

He doesn’t think Genji is listening, he’s not even looking at him.

"Hey, did you hear me? I said-"

Genji cuts him off by suddenly rushing forward and leaping up on stage, much to everyone’s surprise. Jesse watches in shock as Genji dashes in front of the DJ booth and flings a shuriken spread up high just as a gunshot cracks throughout the church. 

It hits Genji in his right shoulder. His arm twitches irregularly and his spread goes wide. Behind him, L.A-L.A. flinches back. It only takes Jesse a second to realize if Genji hadn't leapt in front of her, the bullet would have gone straight through her head.

Jesse quickly looks to where Genji had been aiming. High in the rafters, he sees a dark silhouette near one of the stained glass windows. They must know their cover is blown, and start to run away. 

"Watch her, I have this!" Genji shouts, already leaping off the stage despite his limp arm. Around them most of the crowd screams, while others keep dancing, still riding their high despite the violence.

Jesse rushes to L.A.L.A's side, pushing her by the shoulder to crouch down behind the DJ booth. The song she'd been playing still booms around the church's sound system. "Keep your head down, we're here to help!" Jesse says to her, keeping his voice level and as calm as he can. "We're with Overwatch," he explains, hoping it will reassure her.

Beside him, L.A.L.A shakes in fear as she curls her body to make herself as small as possible. She looks at Jesse, and despite the lack of facial expression, he thinks she looks terrified. "O-Overwatch?" She asks. 

Jesse nods. "It’s a long story, but I think you might have seen something important to us. We're here to protect you, don’t worry."

She looks toward the direction of the dance floor. "I was almost… if that omnic hadn't run in front of me…"

"Don’t think about it right now. First, we need to get you out of here. Keep your head down for a moment."

L.A.L.A nods while Jesse pings his comm line to any open Blackwatch or Overwatch channels. "This is Lieutenant McCree requesting backup immediately. There’s an active gunman walking among civilians, I repeat, active gunman among civilians!"

He barely finishes his sentence when Reyes calls him back. "McCree, where are you? What's your status?" He asks, dead serious.

"Me and Shimada are at the Sanctum club in the omnic ward! I'm pinned behind cover with our witness. Someone just tried to assassinate her. Shimada is in pursuit, but he’s injured and we have no weapons! We need some help over here!"

"Hang on, backup will be there soon. In the meantime, keep yourself and the witness safe, that is the priority!"

"Yes sir," Jesse answers, hanging up. He turns back to the terrified omnic at his side. "Hey. L.A.L.A, right?" 

She shakes and nods. 

He smiles gently at her. "Listen to me L.A.L.A, everything is gonna be alright. I'm gonna get you out of here, but we gotta move. Can you do that?"

After a pause, she nods again.

"Good. Stay low and stay close to me, ok?"

He peeks around the side of the booth. He sees Genji’s silhouette dodging blows against a masked figure up near a construction platform leading to the bell tower. 

"Let's go!" Jesse says, tugging on L.A.L.A’s arm. He shields her as best he can from the direction of the assassin, all while wishing he had his gun with him.

The people rushing to escape helps with their cover at least. It's a little claustrophobic, but Jesse keeps them low and hidden in the middle of the crowd as he carefully leads L.A.L.A out the main doors.

He breathes the fresh air in with short-lived relief. Now the problem is where to go next. Thankfully he sees a familiar Blackwatch car speeding up the street, right on time. 

It pulls up right in front of the church. The door opens and Reyes motions from the driver’s seat for Jesse to get inside quickly.

Jesse pushes L.A.L.A in first, then shuts the door. "I need a weapon, I have to go back and help Genji!" 

Reyes looks ready to argue, but holds his tongue. "Glovebox. You'll have more backup soon, watch yourself!"

Jesse nods and opens it. A regulation pistol is inside. Not his favourite revolver, but it’ll do. He thinks he hears L.A.L.A try to call him back, but it's too late, and his mind is made up. He runs back in. 

Police sirens start to shriek in the distance as Jesse enters the nearly vacant church. He hears the echoes of combat high above him and searches frantically for the stairs. He finds them in a corridor on the left, and runs. 

The stairs open up to a small second floor overlooking the first. On the opposite side of him, a few tall construction platforms have been left leading up to an unfinished bell tower. On one of the platforms, he sees Genji doing his best to take the target down, despite his injuries. 

Jesse pulls out the gun and takes aim. He doesn’t fire right away - It’s hard to find a good shot, and he doesn't want to accidentally hit Genji. 

Finally Genji dodges a punch and double jumps high in the air, right over the assassin’s head. Jesse pulls the trigger.

It hits his target in their upper right thigh. They stumble and shout from the pain of the impact, but don’t go down completely. Jesse rushes forward to get a better shot, ready to take out the other leg, but just as he nears the platform, the assassin reaches behind and grabs Genji by his dead arm.

Jesse watches in horror as they use Genji's weight against him to flip him clean over their shoulder and over the edge of the platform. 

Time seems to slow as Jesse runs. He just barely leans over the second floor railing in time to catch Genji as he falls. The weight of his friend in his hands is too much and Jesse is forced to drop his gun in order to pull Genji up. It clatters and smashes into pieces on the floor below them.

While Jesse pulls Genji up, the assassin flies past him, using the distraction to run down the stairs in escape.

Jesse pulls Genji up as fast as he can. As soon as he’s over the rail, Jesse pursues their target down the stairs, running as fast as he can. The assassin has a head start though, and by the time he reaches the main floor, they’ve already run outside. 

"Reyes, I lost sight of him. Keep your eye out for a masked figure in black!" he shouts into his comm as he starts looking for a back entryway. No way the target left through the front door, not when the police are there. “Large build, most likely male! Wounded in the right leg!”

“Already on it. Larson’s arrived and taking over the search while I escort the witness to Overwatch’s care. I’ll keep you updated.”

There’s an emergency exit down a small side corridor. Jesse runs through it and emerges into a back alley, guard up and fists raised, ready to fight.

The alley is empty. There’s no trace of anyone, let alone the assassin. Jesse relaxes his fists and looks around frantically.

How? It doesn’t make sense, both ends of the alley open into the main streets that are both being patrolled and on alert. A large brick wall at least twenty feet high lines it, no way the assassin climbed over it. Where could they have gone? 

Above him, a window shatters. When Jesse looks up, he catches Genji leaning out from behind the shattered stained glass to scope out the area. 

He mustn’t see anything either. Not by the way he rips off his visor and throws it angrily off the edge with his remaining arm. 

Jesse’s comm pings. Reyes. 

“Please tell me you got good news, Commander,” Jesse says with a feigned smile. 

“The omnic is safe. We’re still looking for her would-be assassin though.”

Fuck. “Well...at least the witness is safe. That’s priority I guess,” Jesse murmurs, watching while Genji storms back inside the church. 

“About that…” Reyes starts. 

Oh no. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Jesse asks, dropping the smile. 

Reyes pauses a moment. Then…

“She doesn’t have video recording capabilities, Jesse. She didn’t see anything.” He pauses again. 

“We have nothing.”

  
  


\--

  
  


Genji doesn’t come back to the safehouse with him. Due to his injuries, he’s shipped off with the Overwatch unit to get his cybernetics repaired. Jesse is offered a ride with him in the ambulance, but he politely declines. Instead he rides back alone in a taxi, exhausted and depressed. 

He knew it was a long shot but still… to have come so close only to have nothing come of it. It’s frustrating as hell.

The taxi drops him off a few blocks away from the safehouse. Technically, he should have gone with Genji to the Paris base to meet up with Reyes, but he was exhausted, depressed, and needed a goddamn nap. Not to mention he’d left his hat sitting on the side table next to his bed. If he’s going to stand next to Gerard and tell him they still have nothing after all this time, well, he needs something of comfort with him. 

Reyes would understand. 

Jesse’s quiet when he opens the back door of the townhouse. It’s late, the people in the apartments nearby are probably trying to sleep. Hopefully he can join them soon. 

He steps inside and heads upstairs toward the bathroom. He just wants to wash his face and pretend his massive failure would just rinse off along with all the smoke and grit from the club. 

Then sleep. Glorious sleep. Just twenty minutes or so, enough to charge his batteries a little before confronting Gerard.

As Jesse climbs the stairs questions without answers keep rattling around in his brain, making the whole situation even more frustrating. Why would the assassin bother trying to kill L.A.L.A if she didn’t know anything? How did they know where she was going to be? And how the hell had they escaped from the church undetected?

He shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh. He can talk it over with Reyes later. Maybe they can figure something out together. 

At least no one else is around to witness his shame. They’re most likely all at either the Overwatch base or still out searching for Amelie. It’s why he doesn’t bother knocking as he opens the bathroom door. 

Captain Larson jolts in surprise from over the sink as he clutches at his side. He spins to look at Jesse and snarls at him. “McCree? What the hell are you doing here? Get the fuck out!”

“Fuck, ok sorry! I didn’t mean-” Jesse rambles as he starts to back away. He just happens to glance into the bathroom mirror and pauses. There’s blood in the sink. “Jesus Larson, are you ok? You get in a fight with the razor? What happened to... your…” he trails off as he notices it. 

It’s difficult to see at first, what with Blackwatch’s uniforms being well, black. But in the cold, unflattering bright light of the bathroom, Jesse can make out the familiar stains. Can see the bullet hole in the fabric. 

Larson is bleeding from a gunshot wound in his upper right thigh. 

Neither of them say a word. Jesse looks up to meet Larson’s eyes. There’s about a second’s pause. Then Jesse runs just as Larson lunges at him. 

His revolver should be under his mattress in the bedroom. If he can just reach it, he can get things back under control. He’s tired, yes, but Larson is injured. Jesse can take him. 

That’s what he tells himself while his heart beats a mile a minute as he runs down the narrow hallway, Larson’s heavy boots thumping right behind him. 

He slams through the cheap door, breathing heavily as he runs toward his bunk in the corner of the room. Almost there. Almost there!

He doesn’t know how close Larson is, doesn’t want to look back and waste time seeing. He ducks down as he closes in and reaches under the thin mattress, desperately grasping for his weapon. 

His hand closes around the hilt of the gun. Larson’s shadow blocks out the light from the streetlamp outside the window. Jesse pulls it out and turns to take the shot. 

Larson grabs his wrist and twists it back just as Jesse pulls the trigger. The shot goes wide and pierces through the far wall. 

Ears ringing, Jesse uses his free hand to punch Larson in the face. The man winces, but doesn’t let go, and _god damn it Reyes is right, he does need to work on his left hook_ he thinks as he desperately changes tactics and tries to slam his knee into Larson’s groin. The man turns just in time, catching Jesse’s knee in his side instead and violently twists his grip on Jesse’s wrist. It hurts like a motherfucker, and Jesse screams as he drops his gun. 

A heavy blow lands right in his gut and Jesse feels like the wind has been knocked right out of him. Before he can catch his breath, Larson grabs him by the neck and throws him down to the floor, pinning Jesse’s body in with his own. Jesse tries to go for Larson’s face again, attempting to claw his eyes out while his injured hand scrambles desperately for his gun. He can’t see where it is, but it can’t be far!

Larson punches him across the jaw and Jesse feels a tooth get knocked loose. Blood fills his mouth and he coughs. 

“You think you’re such hot fucking shit, don’t you? You little fucking asshole!” Larson swears before punching him again. Jesse’s nose hits the floor and his eyes water as blood starts to pour from it too.

“You’re nothing! Nothing but a fucking gangbanging whore! What you’ve done to Reyes, what you’ve done to Blackwatch, what you’ve _ruined_ -” he hits him again. Jesse’s face feels like it’s on fire from the pain. Where the fuck is his gun?

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Larson says with a sadistic smile while Jesse coughs blood. Then his other hand closes over Jesse’s throat and he starts to squeeze. 

Jesse gasps for breath as his airflow is suddenly cut off. He thrashes around as hard as he can, tries desperately to buck and push Larson off of him. 

It doesn’t work. Larson is still bigger than him, and he’s got Jesse right where he wants him. 

His vision is starting to go dark at the edges, and his eyes feel like they’re bulging out of his skull. He resorts to scratching at whatever skin he can reach. Larson doesn’t even flinch, just grins sadistically at him as he kills him, and Jesse’s eyes water as he realizes Larson’s smug face is the last thing he’ll ever see instead of-

The grip on Jesse’s neck suddenly goes slack as Larson’s body falls forward against his face. He still feels suffocated, but then Larson is pulled away and suddenly air, _sweet sweet air_ fills Jesse’s lungs. He gasps wetly between mouthfuls of blood for it, body screaming in pain from the lack of it. 

He coughs and opens his eyes to Gabriel Reyes standing above him, Jesse’s gun in his hand. The spur on the handle is bloody. Gabriel says something to him, looks more afraid than Jesse’s ever seen him in his life. 

Jesse closes his eyes. Sleep. Glorious sleep.

  
  


\--

  
  


He’s not sure how much time has passed when he wakes up in the infirmary at Overwatch's base. At first he’s not sure where he is, painkillers dulling his senses. His wounds are cleaned and patched, and his arm is in a sling. A few machines beep steadily in the background.

He doesn’t feel like moving much, but he turns his head slightly when he realizes someone is in the room with him. 

In the chair beside the hospital bed, Commander Reyes is leaned back with his arms crossed and eyes closed. By the rise and fall of his breath, Jesse thinks he’s asleep. What a good idea.

He closes his eyes and joins him. 

When he wakes up again, Reyes is gone. Instead there’s a nurse in the room with him, marking down his vitals. He’s a little more lucid this time, at the cost of feeling much more pain. He groans a little and tries to sit up. The nurse chides him and pushes him back.

Despite his protests, they keep Jesse in the infirmary for two more days until finally giving him permission to walk around a little.

He takes a mile from their inch by getting dressed and leaving the medical ward, grateful to whoever left him a fresh change of clothes. He has to find Reyes. Has to find Larson. Has to get to the bottom of this mess.

He gets a few odd looks from people as he walks down the halls - he hadn’t been able to wear his shirt properly with his arm in a sling, and there's definitely some nasty swelling happening on his face. Still, he pushes on. Asks Athena where the commander is, and thankfully she points him in the direction of the interrogation rooms.

Nobody stops him on his way there. Outside the main room, Reinhardt stands guard outside. Upon seeing Jesse, his face fills with concern.

"Jesse! You should not be here, you should be resting! Those injuries-"

Jesse waves him off. "Nothing I can't handle. We've both had worse, this is practically embarrassing." He grins up at Reinhardt to reassure him, despite the raspiness in his voice. "Reyes in there?"

Reinhardt slowly nods. "Gerard and Jack are inside as well. They are trying to figure out what to do with the captain."

Probably not a captain anymore, at least. "Can I go in?" Jesse asks.

Reinhardt looks unsure. "I don’t know, Jesse. I don’t think that would be wise…"

"Please Reinhardt? It was me and my witness he tried to kill, I just want to be in the loop."

Reinhard shifts uncomfortably. He looks ready to say something but then the door opens and Gerard stands in the doorframe. He looks like he’s aged twenty years in the span of two weeks. 

"McCree? You're up already?"

Jesse nods, neglecting to mention his doctor’s orders.

Gerard frantically waves him in. "Then come in, we could use your intel! Quickly!"

Jesse tips his imaginary hat to Reinhardt and follows Gerard in. Standing in front of the two-way mirror is Morrison and Reyes. Upon seeing Jesse join them, Morrison frowns while Reyes glares.

"You should be resting in the infirmary, Lieutenant," Reyes says sternly. "You were brutally attacked, this isn't time to be disobeying the doctor."

"I just wanna help. I'm fine, I swear. What happened?" Jesse asks, ignoring Reyes’ protests and stepping closer to the mirror. In the room behind it, Larson sits handcuffed in a chair, glowering at the floor. "I mean, I knew the guy was a jackass but… what the hell?"

It makes sense though now that he’s able to think about it. How Jesse and Genji lost him outside the church. All he would have had to do is take off the mask and flash his badge at a couple officers. Perfect getaway. It was night too, they wouldn't have noticed the wound against his black uniform if he moved carefully enough.

"You're absolutely certain he was the one at the church?" Morrison asks. 

"His wounds match McCree's shot, as well as Shimada’s physical attacks,” Reyes says, scowling at Larson through the glass. “And why else would he try to kill McCree? They’ve never gotten along, but Larson wouldn’t have tried to kill him unless he thought there was a good reason to.”

“I caught him trying to clean his wound,” Jesse offers as an explanation. He hadn’t given an official statement yet, but he might as well while Reyes and the others were in the room with him. 

“I know I was supposed to come here to meet with you and give my report, but after another botched mission I was just so tired… I just wanted to wash up, take a quick nap, and be alone for a little while. I turned down a ride with Genji and came back to the safehouse. When I went inside, everyone was gone except Larson. Think I spooked him good when I opened the door.” It would almost be funny if it hadn’t led to Jesse getting the piss kicked out of him. 

“I saw his wound matched the one I gave our assassin friend at Sanctum. I ran, thought I could get to my gun, get things under control. Obviously that didn’t pan out how I thought it would.” He tries to crack a smile, but Reyes doesn’t return it. 

“Why was he even at this club? There’s no trace of Amelie there!” Gerard asks, obviously frustrated. 

“I thought I found a witness who might have seen where her limo went,” Jesse offers quietly. “She didn’t though… I’m sorry. I thought it could be an actual lead.”

“And so did Larson,” Reyes grumbles. “Did you tell anyone other than me and Shimada why you were going there?”

Jesse shakes his head. “Not a soul. And Genji wouldn’t have either, he don’t talk to most people if he don’t have to.”

“That’s true enough,” Morrison mutters.

“This explains it then, why he was there,” Reyes says, looking back at his ex-captain. “He wanted to waste time by pushing me toward a lead he knew led nowhere. Hell, he probably paid his ‘witness’ to lie to us. Then McCree comes in with a lead, a real viable lead. He overhears the information and tries to argue against it. Then he runs off to take care of the possible loose end. He probably had no idea if the witness actually saw anything or not, but the possibility must have been threat enough.”

“How would he have been able to go to the club if he was supposed to be with you?” Morrison asks. 

Reyes scowls. “Our so called ‘lead witness’ he found gave us two directions to scope out. I took one, and Larson was supposed to take the other. It’s why he wasn’t with me when I arrived on the scene.”

Gerard looks at Larson, expression darkening. “So this means…” 

Reyes’ hand clenches into a fist. “It means Talon has had a mole right under our- under _my_ nose this entire fucking time.”

The room goes silent as they all take in Reyes’ words. Jesse feels so god damn stupid for not noticing earlier. Sure, Larson seemed to be covering his tracks well, but still. 

“Well...regardless of what’s happened, this is our only lead left,” Morrison says carefully. “We need to find out what we can from him. He hasn’t talked yet, but he must know where Amelie is if he went through this much trouble to keep us from finding her.” He turns to Reyes grimly.

“We need to make him.”

Reyes doesn’t move or say anything. Morrison looks like he’s having some kind of internal crisis as he looks over at Gerard. “It’s your call, Lacroix.”

Gerard steps closer to the one way mirror. Jesse can see a brief reflection of his face in the glass. It looks… frightening. He almost doesn’t recognize him. 

“Gabriel,” is all he says. The way he says it though, Jesse knows there’s a hidden command in there somewhere.

Jesse turns to his commander and meets his eyes for just a moment. He sees Reyes look over his face and then down to his neck. His clenches his jaw and turns away from Jesse. 

“Go back to the infirmary, McCree.”

Jesse furrows his brow, confused. “What? But Reyes I-”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant. Leave. Now.”

Jesse shakes his head at him and moves toward him. “Reyes, come on, I can handle-” 

“Reinhardt!” Morrison calls as the commander keeps his back to Jesse. 

The door opens and Jesse feels Reinhardt’s massive hand touch his shoulder, gently pulling him back.

“Come now, Jesse. Let’s go.”

"Reyes?" Jesse asks as Reinhardt starts leading him away. The commander stays silent. Jesse watches over his shoulder as Morrison unlocks the side door to Larson’s holding room. Reyes takes a step toward it.

Gerard’s haggard form blocks off Jesse’s view as he’s pulled back out into the hall. He doesn’t look at Jesse. Instead he carefully shuts the door behind them and locks it.

  
  


\--

  
  


Six hours later, Jesse stands with a small Blackwatch squad outside of a warehouse on the edge of Bordeaux. He wishes he could be inside helping with the actual rescue, but Reyes had forbade it due to his injuries.

It feels like an eternity. His fingers twitch eagerly for a cigarette, but he’d smoked his last one hours ago. Now he can only stand still and wait with the others, trying not to shiver in the cool air of the night. 

At last the main doors open. The Blackwatch and Overwatch agents waiting outside stand at attention as Morrison, Reyes, and Gerard step outside onto the tarmac, followed by Reinhardt who's cradling Amelie gently in his giant arms. Jesse can see she’s still wearing her party dress from the gala she'd never made it to. He breathes a deep sigh of relief when he sees her, glad to see his friend safe at last. Her messy hair is down around her shoulders and she looks pale, but aside from that, she seems unharmed. 

Medics rush toward them. Reinhardt helps lower Amelie down onto a gurney while Gerard clings to her hand. She’s breathing at least, and sluggishly reaches out to touch his face.

Morrison starts talking into his comm, while Reyes makes his way back toward Jesse and the Blackwatch squad.

Mission successful.

"It’s nice, isn’t it?" Jesse says as Reyes walks beside him. They both pause and look across the tarmac at Gerard and Amelie. Gerard is weeping outright refusing to leave her side while the medics carefully lead them toward the ambulance.

"What is?" Reyes asks.

Jesse shrugs. "You know. That they found each other again. That this was a win."

He grins at the sight of them and then back to Reyes.

"A happy ending, you know?"

  
  



	11. Left Behind (Together)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A funeral for a friend, a dead-end lead, and a cabin in the woods. Jesse and Gabriel endure it all, though one is particularly better than the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schedule, schmedule, am I right? Just kidding, I am very sorry for the big delay. I finally quit my garbage job and moved houses, so hopefully the wait won't be so long for the next part. In the meantime, here's a long chapter that finally earns this story it's E rating!
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who has read, left kudos, and especially left a comment on this story. They mean the world to me and give me the kick in the pants I need to keep writing, even when it's been awhile.
> 
> This story also has fan-art now! Check out this awesome piece by by Nyang here: https://bit.ly/2Vvbi4Z
> 
> TW for this chapter include: Death, Violence, Blood, Eye Trauma (minor details), Stitches, and Explicit Sex

A few weeks later, Jesse is promoted to Captain of Blackwatch. There’s no party or gifts this time. No one feels much like celebrating anything since...well. Since the incident.

It's cloudy and overcast on the day of the funeral. The auditorium is decorated as beautifully as a funeral can be, white flowers arranged on every available surface. Despite the room’s massive size, by the time the service starts it’s so packed that at least a third of the guests need to stand at the back. Some have to wait outside in the hall and settle for only hearing what they can through the walls.

Despite his new title, Jesse sits with Genji a few rows from the back, watching quietly as Gerard's family walks down the aisle to set roses on his casket. An older woman, maybe his mother, clings to the man guiding her. As soon as she sets the rose down, her face crumples and her free hand starts trembling violently before she disappears from Jesse's view.

Reyes and Morrison sit up front in the second row, just behind the family. Jesse can only see the backs of their heads, but he knows both of them are completely still and stone-faced in their grief. 

Amelie's family is absent. To be fair, they're probably in no mood to go to a funeral while their daughter is missing once again. 

Jesse and Genji stay quiet as the minister begins his speech on life and death, and tells everyone the stories he's been told about Gerard, the kind of person he was, and little anecdotes from his past. Jesse wishes he would just shut up. It seems stupid to have a stranger who never knew the man lead them in their goodbyes. 

Thankfully, he finishes relatively quickly and Gerard’s brother steps up to give the eulogy. He speaks clearly and fondly, and only pauses a couple times before steadying his voice and carrying on. Once he’s done, a few other friends and family members come up to say a few words. 

Commander Morrison steps up to the podium to say a little speech on the kind of man Gerard was, how he made the world a better, safer place, how much he loved his wife, and how they were all lucky to have lived alongside him while they could. Reyes stays seated, but puts his hand on Morrison’s shoulder when he sits back down beside him. 

It ends with a slideshow of photos and short video clips of Gerard throughout his life, and that's where Jesse hears most of the people around him start sniffling.

Him and Genji don’t cry. Jesse wishes he could, but tears tend to come rarely for him lately. Too many bodies in his memory for him to be able to cry for them all. He grieves for the loss of Gerard all the same. 

Mostly, he grieves for Amelie. He'd barely seen her before she was gone again, but in the short moments they'd had when he visited her, she hadn't seemed like herself. Her usual coy smile had been gone, along with all her quick humor and warm personality. It had felt as though she’d been looking right through Jesse when he spoke to her, like she was looking at a cardboard cutout of someone she used to know. 

Wherever she is now, Jesse's not naive enough to think she's okay. 

At last, the service ends. The family rises and makes their way single file toward Gerard's casket, where they touch the closed lid gently, say their last goodbyes, and then walk back down the aisle to the exit.

The following row does the same, then the next, and the next, and eventually its Jesse's turn to touch the casket. 

He wishes he'd talked to Gerard more, he thinks as he brings his hand back and turns away. He only knew him a little but the man had always stood up for Jesse when it came down to it, and always treated him with respect. Amelie had loved him and that alone must have meant he was a great man.

It's silly but Jesse hopes that if there’s any sort of afterlife, that Gerard is there and watching over her, wherever she is. 

People mull about outside the auditorium. Jesse nods to a couple familiar faces, rolls his eyes when Genji ditches him to go talk to Ziegler, and heads past them all toward the exit. A few people are smoking outside, and Jesse follows their example. He leans against the wall on the edge of the crowd as he lights up, avoiding eye contact from everyone. He doesn’t feel like small talk with strangers.

A couple minutes later he sees Reyes emerge from the doors. The commander spots Jesse right away and starts walking toward him. Along with the rest of the attendants from the military, Reyes is dressed in his official uniform, medals gleaming from his breast. A few people salute to him and he nods accordingly. Jesse offers his lighter when he’s close enough.

A few drops of rain hit the sidewalk, but it's not enough to be a nuisance. Jesse and Reyes ignore it.

"What's the plan now?" Jesse asks. He wants to know, and doubts Reyes will hide anything.

The commander shrugs. "We chase down whatever lead he was working on last and hope we find something."

"And Amelie?"

Reyes takes a deep inhale from his cigarette. "Overwatch is taking over her disappearance case. We're to focus on Talon. It's likely our paths will cross eventually anyway." He frowns.

"Me and Jack have been thinking about it all. I know you probably don’t want to hear this but… we’re both almost certain that Talon allowed us to find Amelie the first time in order to get Gerard’s guard down. He was most likely their prime target, not her."

Jesse taps the ash from his cigarette onto the pavement. "Yeah. I figured that was the case too." Fucking bastards.

"We're heading out to Montreal tomorrow to check out some leads Gerard left behind. He had a few contacts there, and we need to act on them quickly before they get spooked and disappear. We're keeping it small, just a few two man teams spread out over the city." Reyes pauses to take another drag. 

"You're with me. We're leaving first thing in the morning."

Jesse nods. “I’ll be waiting.”

Reyes finishes his smoke, drops it, and stubs it out with his boot. "See you then, Captain."

  
  


\--

  
  


It's cold in Montreal. Jesse's become more acclimatized to the wet, warm weather of the western coast, but they're into early November already and the eastern side of the country is expecting snow any day now. 

"Thought you told me once upon a time that it rains more than snows here," Jesse mutters as he glares at the overcast sky.

"Only along the coasts. Sorry." Reyes doesn’t actually look sorry, though Jesse takes solace in the fact the commander looks just as uncomfortable in the cold as he does. 

He looks out over the street from their vantage point in an alley. "You think Gerard would have liked it here?"

"God no. He was always making fun of how weird the French is spoken here." the barest hint of a smile tugs at Reyes’ lips as he recalls some fond memory. “It was a nightmare going on ops with him around here. Poor Jack got stuck with him the most, I think he came close to pushing him into the river at one point.”

Hi smile fades after a couple seconds and Reyes checks his phone again. "Our contact should be here any moment now, keep your eyes peeled."

Jesse nods and waits. Half and hour passes but no one shows up. Jesse shuffles awkwardly on his feet, trying to keep warm. He misses his hat. Reyes had made him leave it back at HQ again. Apparently it made them stand out too much, although Jesse has counted at least five people wearing cowboy hats walk past them. He doesn’t bother pointing it out though, Reyes probably already noticed them what with the way he keeps staring down the street, scanning every passing person’s face for their mystery man. 

Usually the silence is comfortable between them. Usually. Things have been a little weird since Jesse was in the medical wing back in Paris. Not to mention…

“So are we ever gonna talk about it?” Jesse asks, zipping his bomber jacket up as high as it will go.

“Talk about what?” Reyes asks a little too sharply. 

Jesse shoots him an exasperated look. “What, you want a list? How about the whole kicking me out of the interrogation room back in Paris? Or why you were camped out in my hospital room when I was high as a kite? Or you know...before all of that when we were back at HQ in your room and we almost-”

“Not now,” Reyes snaps. Jesse must let a bit of hurt show, because immediately Reyes turns to him and softens his expression. He lets out a deep sigh and looks back to the street.

“I’m not saying never. Just. Not now. Not while we’re in the middle of all of this. Okay?”

Jesse quietly nods. “Okay.”

They don’t say much after that. Forty minutes go by, and still no sign of their contact. Another twenty minutes pass and finally, Reyes gets a text. 

"It’s from our guy. Just an address, nothing else."

"Well that's not sketchy at all," Jesse mumbles. "Could be a trap."

"Probably. But we have no other leads. You got your weapon?"

Jesse nods. He hasn’t been far from his revolver since the incident with Larson. 

"Good. Let's go."

They head out to find the address. It leads them to a small, nondescript apartment on the edge of the city. They go in carefully, guards up as they climb the rickety stairs. The text tells them apartment 407 is their destination. When they find it, Reyes knocks carefully. No one answers. He tries again, and still no response. 

He tries the handle and the door opens.

Jesse can tell something is wrong right away. There’s a familiar coppery scent in the air. A black and white cat wanders into the hall and meows loudly at them. As it walks closer toward them it leaves a trail of bloody pawprints on the floor behind it. Gabriel silently walks to the room it came from at the end of the hall and swears. "Son of a fucking bitch," he hisses. 

Jesse follows after him, careful not to trip over the cat. In the living room, their contact sits in a computer chair, slumped over at a desk, bleeding profusely from a bullethole in the back of his head. 

His face is down and pressed against the keyboard pad. Jesse looks away as Gabriel gingerly lifts the head up to make sure it's their guy. The exit wound is always worse than the entry one, and Jesse doesn’t feel like losing his lunch at the moment. 

The bullet had gone right through the monitor. The hard drive is smashed to pieces on the floor.

"I fucking hate these Talon assholes," Reyes grumbles. "Check around, hopefully there’s some trace left of where they are."

Jesse nods and starts scoping out the other rooms while Reyes continues to examine the area around the body. 

The cat follows Jesse, still meowing loudly at him while he combs over the master bedroom. After awhile it starts driving him nuts.

"What? What do you want from me?" He asks, annoyed. 

The cat just stares up with big brown eyes and walks over to an empty food dish.

"Oh for the love of-" Jesse huffs and leaves to go to the kitchen. There’s a bag of dry cat food in the pantry. He scoops some out with the cat’s bowl and sets it on the floor. 

The cat wolfs it down like it was starving. 

"No shits given about your owner dying huh?" Jesse asks as he watches. The cat mewls and goes back to eating. Jesse kneels down to scratch behind its ears. It purrs and tilts its head up. On its collar, Jesse sees a tag reading ' _Belle_ ' and a little gold jingle bell attached. 

When Jesse shifts it over to look closer, the bell doesn't make any noise, but something shifts around inside. 

He sighs. People and their stupid hiding spots. He takes the bell off. It looks like a piece of paper is stuck inside, and after a few minutes of poking around the slots with his pocket knife, he manages to get it out.

There’s a 6 digit code written down. Not much help, but maybe Reyes can make something of it.

He goes back to the living room, to find the commander rooting through the bookshelves. 

"Find anything?" Reyes asks, not looking at him.

"A password I think. No idea what it's for, though."

Reyes takes a book off the shelf and hums. He opens it and pulls out a small tablet from the hollowed out insides. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume it's for this."

Sure enough, Jesse's code works. The lock screen fades out to a desktop featuring the cat's face. Reyes starts poking around in various files and grins. "Here we go. It looks like our friend here found a small base of operations for Talon in an old power plant in northern Ontario. His intel says they stopped using it about a month ago, but it’s worth checking into.Looks about a day’s drive from here if we stay a little over the speed limit.”

“No helicarrier?”

Reyes shakes his head. “I don’t want to lose a potential surprise attack in case anyone’s still there. Easier to drive. There’s a Blackwatch safe house not too far from that area too. We could spend the night there, regroup and get an extraction the following day.”

It sounds good to Jesse. “You better mark it on my map too then. A full day’s drive, we’ll have to switch up drivers at some point.”

Reyes makes a face. 

“Don’t give me that, I’m not _that_ bad at driving!” Jesse huffs, lightly smacking Reyes on the shoulder. 

“Not if you’re a stunt driver for those racing movies, maybe.”

“You said we gotta go fast, didn’t you?” Jesse grins. “I’m your man then.”

Reyes rolls his eyes but relaxes a little. He looks back over to the corpse beside them. “I’ll get a cleanup crew over here right away. Maybe they can find anything we’ve missed. Let any family members know about our friend’s recent passing while they’re at it.”

"How long was he was working with Gerard?"

Reyes shrugs. “From the stuff I dug up before trying to contact him, at least a year. He tried messaging him with news about the base the night of… well, you know."

Jesse frowns. Poor guy. Talk about unlucky timing. If Talon agents had killed Gerard, they would have definitely seen any messages coming for him while they were at it. 

"Let's go," Reyes says, carefully taking apart what he can from the tablet and pocketing the pieces. "I'll see if anyone in the tech labs can find more info on this later."

They head out, nearly tripping on the cat again. It gives Jesse big sad eyes and he scowls. Hurriedly, he grabs it’s food and water dishes and sets them in the bedroom before ushering in the cat too, closing the door behind it.

At Reyes’ raised brow Jesse crosses his arms and glares. “I don’t want it to start eating the guy okay? Also it’s fucked to have it just walking around by it’s dead owner. Ask someone from the clean up crew to find a home for it or something!”

“You’re all heart McCree,” Reyes says sarcastically.

“Shut up,” Jesse mumbles. “Let’s get out of here.”

  
  


\--

  
  


There’s something off with the power plant, and it’s not just the power. It's far too quiet, too still. If Talon had ever been there, they're long gone now. 

"This place gives me the creeps," Jesse says under his breath as they walk down a dark hallway, their flashlights the only light in the building. He misses the heat of their truck already.

"You can stare at a dead body, but the dark is too much?" Reyes jokes.

"You'd be freaked out too if you didn't have your dumb supersoldier night vision," Jesse replies, scowling.

"Fair enough." 

They walk further and further in. Jesse shivers. It had started to snow when they arrived at the plant, and the building isn't heated. To make things even worse, their comms couldn’t seem to get any reception this far out north. If one of them got lost, there would be no way of finding each other without stumbling around blind.

They look around for nearly two hours and find absolutely nothing.

"Well this was a waste," Jesse huffs, turning around. Reyes looks just as annoyed. "Maybe we missed something?" He turns to shine his flashlight around the other side of the room.

"Get down!" Reyes shouts suddenly, slamming into Jesse and pushing him to the floor just as the sound of a rifle splits the air around them. The bullet strikes the wall right behind them, a little too close for comfort.

Jesse pulls out his revolver and rolls back to his feet, taking cover with Reyes behind a large electrical panel. He can’t see shit and he knows if he tries to use his flashlight, he’s a dead man. 

“Where are they?” Jesse asks, trying to scan the darkness as best he can from behind cover. Another shot goes off and he ducks. 

“A walkway at the other side of the room. He’s got night vision gear on. There’s two more moving forward to try and close in on us.” Reyes swears. “They’re too far for my shotguns to reach. Lend me your revolver.”

Jesse hands it over without question or hesitation. Reyes takes a breath and leans out, firing twice. Jesse hears two bodies fall, one much louder than the other. Must have knocked them right off the walkway. 

“The other one’s keeping low. He’s gonna come from the left. You still got those flashbangs you’ve been messing around with?”

Jesse nods and pulls one out. Reyes puts a hand on his wrist and slowly guides his arm until it’s in the direction of their enemy. 

“He’s behind a panel the size of this one. High toss,” Reyes whispers. 

Jesse pulls the pin and throws. The room lights up for a second, and the last Talon agent screams as the bright light paired with the night vision equipment becomes too much for his eyes. Reyes leans out again and fires Jesse’s revolver. The screaming stops and the body hits the ground, joining the others. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Reyes says, handing Jesse his gun back.

Jesse nods, reloading it and following the commander’s footsteps back down the maze of hallways connecting the plant. 

They run into two more Talon soldiers, but before the enemy can even aim their guns, Jesse throws his flashbangs and Reyes blows their heads off with his shotguns. They don’t bother slowing down and finally, the exit is in front of them. They emerge from the doors, ready to shoot again, but no other soldiers are in sight. The entry lot is empty, though the snow has risen about half an inch since they’d first gone inside. 

“That can’t have been it,” Jesse says, looking around.

Reyes doesn’t say anything. “We shouldn’t stand near the open like this. They must be tr-”

The loud _crack_ of a bullet cuts him off and suddenly a spray of blood bursts from Reyes’ chest and onto the crisp white snow at his feet.

Jesse’s eyes widen in shock and horror. The world suddenly slows around him as Gabriel starts to fall.

“Reyes!” Jesse shouts, immediately rushing forward to catch his body before he hits the ground. He can hear the sound of footsteps around them and Jesse instinctively pulls the commander toward an old company van parked to their right. He’s heavy, but Jesse manages to pull him out of the way just in time to keep another bullet from piercing his skull.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jesse whispers as he tries to see where Gabriel was hit. Blood is pooling quickly in the left side of his chest while he starts gasping for breath, and Jesse prays to any damn god listening that the bullet didn’t hit Reyes’ heart. 

“Target down. One remaining,” He hears a low, masculine voice say from about thirty feet away. “Come on out, boy. You’re pinned and surrounded. Surrender and this can be much easier for you.”

Jesse looks around but he can’t see much without making himself a huge target. He reaches up and yanks the side mirror off the van, trying to angle it around to see how many soldiers he’s up against. 

He counts five before one of them shoots the mirror from his hands. 

“Nice try, kiddo. You have until the count of ten before the chance to come peacefully is over. _One_ …”

“Fuck!” Jesse swears in frustration. He’s all out of flashbangs, and no way his gun fires faster than at least five Talon agents. Reyes can’t help him either, not this time. 

“Jesse,” Reyes rasps beside him, reaching up and clinging to his hand. “Don’t- Don’t go with them…”

“ _Two_ …”

Jesse’s breath shakes as he squeezes Reyes’ hand. “What the hell do I do? We’re fucked, Gabe, we’re fucked!”

Reyes shakes his head again. When he opens his mouth, Jesse sees blood behind his teeth. “Don’t go...don’t let them get you like- like they did with Amelie… Run…”

“ _Three_ …”

The snow keeps falling, landing on Reyes’ chest and turning pink from the blood. Jesse bites his lip and keeps holding tight to Reyes’ hand. “I can’t run, boss! I can’t go back in there, even if make it I can’t see in the dark like you can. I’ll be dead in no time!”

“ _Four_ …”

Reyes sits up a little and stifles a cry of pain. “Jess-Jesse,” He whispers. “I should’ve... kept my guard up better. I’m sorry-”

“Shut up!” Jesse interrupts. “Shut up and let me think!” His eyes sting. He likes to think he’s so damn tough, but it turns out he has quite a few tears left in him after all. “Don’t start saying a bunch of dumb stuff when we’re in the middle of a situation here! You’re supposed to be the calm, capable commander, and I’m the lazy ingrate who talks too much! So just-just shut up right now!”

“ _Five_...”

Reyes’ breathing becomes harsher. “Jesse, I-” he ignores the angry glare thrown his way. “I’m sorry... I got you into this mess. All of it. I’m sorry I pulled you down into my world… sorry I kept you here.”

“Shut your mouth you asshole,” Jesse scowls, blinking away the hot snowflakes in his eyes. “This was always better than what I was gonna have. You told me to run back then too and I didn’t, so don’t go blaming yourself for my stupid choices!”

“ _Six_ …”

Reyes smiles despite the pain. “I’m sorry we never talked about it. About us. I was... scared.” He shifts again and winces, closing his eyes. “I didn’t want to ruin it.” Jesse watches as Reyes’ breath visibly hits the cold air in soft puffs. “Didn’t wanna lose you.”

Jesse swallows around the lump in his throat. “You can’t lose me. Not after all this time. I’m stuck to you like glue now, y’hear? No way around it. No. No, after all we’ve been through? You ain’t never getting rid of me. Never.”

“ _Seven_ …”

Reyes’ eyes don’t open. His bloody smiles dims. “ Jesse...”

The grip in Jesse’s hand loosens a little.

“Reyes?”

“ _Eight_ …”

He doesn’t answer. Snow falls on his face, but he doesn’t brush it away. Jesse’s guts twist when he realizes the white plumes of Gabriel’s breath aren’t visible in the air anymore. 

“Reyes…Gabe...”

His hand loosens its grip and slips from Jesse’s. 

“ _Nine_ …”

Jesse stares down at the man his whole world has revolved around for nearly a decade. The man he loves more than anyone else in his life. 

The man who is now dead in front of him. 

Jesse’s cheeks prickle from the cold air hitting the tear tracks left behind. He stares down at the blood pooling around Reyes’ body, spreading out in the snow around him, turning everything red in its path. 

Jesse looks away but the red keeps spreading in his vision. His eyes sting from the tears and he clenches his teeth in fury while the world around him slowly shifts from cold grey to shades of scarlet and crimson.

“Te-”

Jesse raises both his hands above his head, high enough to be seen over the hood of the van. The Talon soldier counting down tells the others to hold. 

Slowly, Jesse rises to his feet. His revolver hangs at his side, still strapped in. Carefully, he steps around the truck to face the enemy. There’s a ringing in his head, like an alarm bell going off, but he ignores it. Somewhere in the sky above, a bird screeches, piercing the air around him with it’s cry.

_Focus._

He looks up. Six red skulls are staring back at him. Jesse’s fingers twitch as the leader steps forward while the others keep their weapons trained on him.

_Mark._

“Alright now kid, toss that gun over and get on your-”

_Draw._

Jesse’s gun is in his hand faster than it’s ever been in his life. The ringing in his ears drowns out all other noise around him as he pulls the trigger. Across the yard, six bodies fall in the span of a second. 

Someone shouts in surprise or maybe out of fear, and then more and more soldiers start to creep out of their hiding places while Jesse’s hands automatically reload. More red skulls laughing at him.

He pulls the trigger again and five more fall. His right eye hurts, but he ignores it, reloads, takes aim, and fires again.

More keep coming, shouting and shooting, but to Jesse it’s as though they’re barely moving. The red skulls appear where their heads should be, and they only disappear when he pulls the trigger again and again.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

He loses track of how many times he fires his revolver, all he knows is that he can’t stop until either he’s dead or they are. The red is still in his vision but now it’s because there’s blood in his eye, and there’s still more skulls coming for him. 

Jesse shoots for what feels like an eternity, right up until he’s out of ammo and his gun has nothing left in the chamber. His right eye is so bloody and painful that he can’t keep it open any more. Exhausted and aching, he falls to his knees and waits for his enemies to finally finish him off as the red finally fades from his vision.

No one makes a sound. After a moment of complete silence, Jesse looks up to check the area with his remaining good eye.

They’re all dead. At least thirty, maybe forty Talon soldiers lay dead in the snow, bullets right between their eyes. Some have their headgear shot right off and in pieces around them. Jesse stares in shock, breathing heavily into the cold air as he tries to catch his breath. 

He doesn’t know how he’s still alive, but he doesn’t dare dwell on it. Despite the blood dripping down his face and the splitting pain in his head, Jesse stumbles back toward the van to Reyes’ side. 

He wants to move him just to have a body to take back. He refuses to let Reyes’s corpse be picked over by Talon scientists trying to figure out what made him tick. 

He’s manages to drag him halfway to the truck when he hears faint, pained gasp right by his ear and nearly drops Reyes in shock.

“You son of a bitch!” Jesse shouts, wincing at the volume of his own voice while struggling to haul the commander the rest of the way. “Don’t you dare fucking die on me yet! I have to kick your ass for putting me through this later!” Ignoring the throbbing in the right side of his head, Jesse manages to maneuver Reyes into the back of the truck and madly scrambles to find the first aid kit under the seat. He attempts to call for a medical evac with one hand, but the comms are still too far out to reach anyone. He swears again as he strips Reyes of his jacket and hoodie, and cuts through his shirt with the little emergency scissors.

Jesse knows he doesn’t have much time; who knows when more Talon fuckers will show up again? Still, he does his best to put pressure on the wound while he fumbles with the biotic emitters. He manages to get one open and holds it over the open hole in Reyes’ chest. The bullet looks like it’s passed right through him thankfully, and Jesse just hopes to God the SEP juice flowing through Reyes’ veins is working overtime to keep him alive too. 

Jesse tries to focus on all the things he’d learned from Ana about emergency medical treatment as he does his best to save his commander’s life. Remembering the steps she’d shown him, he manages to make a decent chest bandage, considering the circumstances. Despite how much he doesn’t want to leave Reyes’ side once he’s done what he can, he forces himself to back away and get in the driver’s seat. 

The key is barely in the ignition as Jesse backs out and drives like a madman away from the power plant.

The snow is coming down faster now, and while he wants to go back to the last town they’d passed on their way to the plant, the safe house is closer. More importantly, the safe house has a communication station back to Blackwatch HQ. It should be safely hidden from Talon too, Reyes had seemed certain of it. 

The snow is good for covering their tracks at least. Jesse still drives faster than he should, considering the weather and his own rough condition. He keeps the radio turned off, desperate to know if Reyes stops his raspy breathing again. 

It’s only about an hour of driving, but it’s the longest hour of Jesse’s life. Everything is dark by the time he finds the safehouse, a little old cabin on a large, abandoned farm, only accessible by a small range road winding through a thick copse of trees. It’s a miracle he’s able to find it with only one good eye. The truck’s headlights reflect off the falling snow, illuminating the thick flakes speckled in the deep, inky black of the night. He’s just thankful he made Reyes give him directions earlier, or he’d never have known what signs to look for. 

He pulls right up to the front door, leaving the truck running and turning on the interior lights. Hopping out, he runs to the door and opens it with the safehouse key he’d lifted from Reyes’ pocket. 

It’s chilly inside, but there’s a couch with blankets in the corner of the room and that’s good enough for Jesse. He runs back to the truck and mutters a quick apology to Reyes before pulling him back out into the cold.

Somehow, Jesse manages to get him inside without making Reyes’ injury worse. After getting him on the couch, Jesse finds a few burner lamps around the place to lighten things up.

With a slightly better workspace, Jesse removes Reyes’ old, bloody bandages and cleans out the wound more thoroughly. He cracks open another biotic emitter on it, inspecting his work through the warm yellow glow. It looks better than it did an hour ago at least. The blood is clotting and the biotics are slowly piecing the muscle and tissue back together, but Jesse’s still afraid of an infection creeping in. He murmurs a soft apology as he reaches into the first aid kit and pulls out a needle and thread.

“I know you like to think you’re a big tough guy, but you might wanna stay sleeping for this part.”

Despite his impaired vision and the stress of the situation, Jesse’s hands are surprisingly steady as he carefully pushes the needle through Reyes’ skin. He hears Ana’s voice in his head, carefully guiding him through what to do.

Once the stitches are pulled tight and tied off, Jesse cleans off the wound again with one of the remaining disinfecting wipes from the first aid kit, and dresses Reyes with some fresh bandages. He thinks he hears the commander’s breathing even out a little more, but it could just be wishful thinking. 

Having taken care of Reyes, Jesse steps back to examine the safehouse. It looks a lot more homey than he was expecting, like someone had been actually living in it for quite some time before Blackwatch took it over. There’s a fireplace close by the couch, and a large stack of wood piled next to it nearby. It takes a few minutes but eventually Jesse manages to get a decent blaze going and he’s glad for the warmth while he attempts to contact HQ.

He finds the comm station on the table in the kitchen area. Pulling the headset on, Jesse keys in the code and frequency of Blackwatch HQ’s emergency line. It crackles with static that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up while he fiddles around with the dials..

“This is Captain McCree, requesting a medical evac at Safehouse number five-three-one,” He says into the headset. “I repeat, I need a medical evac at safehouse number five-three-one. Commander Reyes is with me and needs medical treatment as soon as possible. Over.”

There’s no response as comm crackles again and Jesse’s stomach drops at the thought of being completely stranded. Then he hears a voice pick up and breathes a heavy sigh of relief.

“Captain!” A tinny voice on the other end answers. “We’ve been trying to contact you for hours! We have your coordinates, but we can’t send an evac out to you. There’s a blizzard headed straight for you, and the winds are too strong for our helicarriers to safely navigate. Visibility is way too low to be able to carry out an evacuation. As soon as it passes we can move in, but until then you’ll need to hang tight. Over.”

“What? No, you don’t understand, this is serious! Commander Reyes has been shot, he needs an actual medic to help him!” A sharp burst of static cuts through and Jesse pulls his headset away with a yelp. “Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?” He tries again. This time the line sounds completely dead.

“Fuck!” He shouts, throwing the headset down on the table. He looks back toward Reyes, asleep on the couch. He seems somewhat stable for the moment at least, though he does twitch and groan in pain every so often. 

Jesse whispers another _fuck_ for good measure and brings a hand over his face, wincing as he touches his eye. By now it’s crusted shut with blood and pus, and other gross body fluids. He’s tired, he’s so tired, but he knows he needs to clean it out. 

Stumbling back to his feet, he grabs the med kit and heads into the cabin’s tiny bathroom. There’s a light switch, so there must be a generator around somewhere, but he’s in no shape to go looking for it now. He’ll have to do it in the morning. For the moment, he lights up some candles left around the room and breaks a couple emergency glow sticks in the med pack to give himself some light. 

There’s running water at least. It’s freezing, but it’s better than nothing. Jesse washes out his eye as best he can, hissing from the cold sting of it. There’s a few more biotic emitters in the kit, but he leaves them for Reyes. If they’re stuck out here for a few days, Jesse would rather lose the eye and keep Gabriel instead. 

He bandages himself up fairly well and allows himself a couple painkillers for his head. It’ll have to be enough for the moment. 

He heads back out into the little living room area and adds a couple more logs to the fire. Reyes is still unconscious, but Jesse’s done all he can. All he can do now is stay by his side in case he wakes up. 

There’s a small bedroom in the cabin, but Jesse doesn’t bother going in. Instead he curls up on the rug beside the couch, staring at Reyes’ unconscious face and watching over him until eventually his eye closes and sleep finally overtakes him. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The blizzard continues well into the next day. When Jesse wakes up, his head feels like someone is taking a drill to it right through the eye socket, but more importantly, the fire is almost out. He forces himself to get up and tend to it. 

Outside the cabin, the darkness of the night is long gone, replaced by an all consuming white. It’s terrifying, especially when Jesse opens the door a crack to see the snow piled up about three feet high with no signs of slowing down any time soon. 

Gabriel is still unconscious. Jesse checks him over again and contemplates trying to move him into the bedroom, but doesn’t want to risk opening up his stitches. He settles for getting him another blanket. 

The fireplace helps, but the cabin is still pretty chilly. Jesse knows he needs to get the generator working if they want some actual heat to get them through this. 

He steals Reyes’ gloves and hat in preparation. As soon as he steps outside, the wind bites at whatever exposed skin it can find, and the snow falls into his boots when he awkwardly attempts to walk through it. He has to hurry, no need to add frostbite to his list of problems. 

Keeping one hand on the cabin wall, Jesse stomps through the high piles of snow to try finding the generator. For once, he gets cut a break; it’s under a little overhang at the end of the cabin wall, protected by a few sheets of plywood to keep the snow out.

It takes a few pulls, but once the loud rumbling starts to drown out the howling wind, Jesse raises a fist and lets out a loud cheer.

The way back inside is easier now that he can walk into his own footsteps, and he can tell the heat is starting to come through as soon as he walks through the door. His jacket, boots, and pants are soaked once the snow on them melts, but he doesn’t care. He strips them off, takes a few more painkillers, and curls up in one of the thick, wool blankets from the bedroom before resuming his place on the floor next to the couch. 

He’ll need to start digging around for food soon, but he’ll worry about that once he gets the chill out of his bones. Beside him, Reyes sleeps on, twitching and groaning every so often, but much less than the night before. Hopefully it means he’s improving. 

Another day passes. Jesse keeps himself busy by finding all the food in the safehouse - mostly canned soup, but there’s also a tin half full of black tea, and a bowl of sugar that’s gone rock solid when Jesse tries to scoop some out. A few pots and pans have been left hung up next to the gas light stove. Digging through the cupboards and drawers yields a few bowls, some silverware, and a kettle. 

“Practically a five star hotel, right Gabe?” Jesse jokes while he opens a can of tomato soup.

Still no answer. At least he won’t give Jesse shit for addressing him so informally. He doesn’t think Gabriel actually cares about that stuff, but the last thing he needs is to slip up in front of Morrison or Petras and make him look soft in front of them.

He looks over at Reyes again and frowns. He misses the sound of his voice. 

The soup is fine, and after changing his own bandages, Jesse snoops around the cabin some more. There’s no television, let alone a holoscreen, but there is an ancient battery-operated stereo and a small rack of cassettes in the living room. Jesse gives them a brief once over before moving on to the bedroom. A big, comfy looking bed sits in the middle of the room. There’s nothing much else of note, though Jesse does manage to find a few mystery novels, along with a couple trashy harlequin romances. 

The comms are still down, and a look out the window tells him the blizzard has no intention of letting up any time soon. He heads back to the living room and takes a seat on the floor to lean back against the couch by Reyes’ feet. Cracking open the musty smelling book in his hands, Jesse entertains himself with the tale of forbidden love between proper lady Savannah Fairchild, and the roguishly handsome outlaw, Jackson Ryder.

It’s not exactly a pulitzer prize winner, and he has to take breaks every few pages when his eye starts hurting, but it’s good for a laugh. Jesse gets about halfway through and falls asleep with the book open in his lap.

  
  


\--

  
  


Reyes is staring at him when he wakes up. 

At first Jesse forgets what’s happened and then the throbbing pain in the right side of his head starts up again. He groans and rolls onto his back, closing his good eye again. “Did the fire go out?”

“Not quite,” Reyes answers roughly. He sits up and grunts in pain. 

Jesse immediately straightens up and scrambles to his feet. “Hey, hey! Stop that, I’ve got you held together with some ace bandages and a prayer! Don’t go undoing all my work!”

Reyes relents and relaxes back into the couch, clenching his jaw from the movement. “I’m fine.” At Jesse’s unimpressed stare, he rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m not-not _fine_ , but I’ll be okay. I’ll be rough for a few more hours but I heal a hell of a lot faster than a regular person. You got me through the worst of it.” He leans his head back and closes his eyes. “Thank you.”

Jesse stares at him a moment, checking to see if everything is _really_ okay. After a moment of peaceful silence, he looks to the dim fire. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you jerk.”

“What, get shot? Comes with the profession.”

Jesse huffs and walks over to get another log for the fire. “Getting shot is one thing. It’s another to get shot, give me a deathbed speech, and then almost die in front of me. On top of that, you’re gonna do it in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, just as a blizzard is coming in?” Jesse glares and prods the fire with the iron poker a little harder than he should. “When we get back, I want a damn vacation.”

“I’m sorry,” Reyes says. “I should have-”

“No. No more apologies from you. Stay put and heal, that’s how you make it up to me.” Jesse puts the poker back in it’s spot and turns back to the couch. Seeing Reyes awake at last lifts a huge weight on his mind at least. He sighs and motions to the stove. 

“You hungry? It’s not much but there’s some soup here that I can whip up for us.”

Reyes doesn’t say anything as he stares at him. Jesse takes that as a yes and heads over to grab a pot off the counter.

“What happened to your eye?” Reyes asks as Jesse works on opening up another can.

He pauses, pocket knife raised just above the lid. “Honestly? I don’t really know. It happened when I was facing off against those Talon fucks.” He resumes his work, carefully puncturing the edge of the lid. “Thought maybe one of them got a lucky shot off on me or something, but there’s no entry wound. It just started hurting and bleeding. Truth be told, I’m trying not to think about it too much right now. I’ve had more pressing concerns, I’ll have you know.” He shoots Reyes an accusatory glare and goes back to prying the can open. 

Reyes stays quiet up until Jesse starts up the stove. “You’re wearing my hat.”

Jesse keeps his eyes firmly on the stove. Hopefully Reyes can’t see his blush from the couch. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t let me wear mine on this mission and somebody had to go outside to start the generator. That’s worth another vacation day you know. We’re on a damn ranch and I don’t have my cowboy hat?” He shakes his head. “I’m wearing it everywhere after this, to hell with what you say about it.”

He spares a glance back over his shoulder and sees Reyes smile briefly. “Yeah, okay.”

When the soup is done boiling, Jesse carefully helps Reyes sit up on the couch to eat. In between spoonfuls, he fills him in on their situation and lets him know they’re on their own until the storm eased up.

“How long do blizzards usually last anyway?” Jesse asks, slurping up the rest of his bowl. 

Reyes shrugs. “Depends. Could be as short as three hours, could be as long as ten days.”

Jesse sighs. “Great.”

“At least we’ve got food and shelter,” Reyes offers. “I’d say we’re doing pretty good so far, thanks to you.” 

Jesse rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Thanks, Gabe.”

Reyes raises an eyebrow and Jesse realizes his mistake. Rather than apologize, he pretends he never said anything and takes his bowl over to the sink. 

“Anytime, Jesse.”

He smiles and gets to work cleaning up.

  
  


\--

  
  


Two more days pass. Reyes wasn’t kidding about his healing factor, the man is able to walk around again the morning after regaining consciousness. Jesse still forces him to try taking it easy. 

They try the comms every couple hours, but there’s still no answer. Despite Reyes’ objections, Jesse makes another trip outside to refuel the generator. There’s a little shed about ten feet away from the cabin, and Jesse would bet his remaining eye that’s where extra fuel and firewood are stored. The snow is nearly up to his chest and it’s a struggle to reach the shed despite how close it is, but he manages. Reyes offers to make a few trips out to bring some wood in, but Jesse forbids it and tells him to stay put.

Once he’s finished refueling and bringing in the firewood, he collapses on the living room floor, panting. 

“I haven’t had that much of a workout since my damn probation days,” he complains between breaths. “Who knew snow could be so damn heavy?”

“For the record, I did offer to help,” Reyes chides, adding the dryest logs to the fire. 

“Aw, shuddup,” Jesse mutters, unzipping his jacket and shimmying out of his pants from the floor. “Pass me a blanket, would you?”

Reyes hands him a heavy wool one from the couch. As Jesse takes it and wraps it around himself, he catches Reyes looking him over, face a little redder than usual.

“I’m not walking around in soaked jeans, okay?” Jesse mumbles awkwardly. 

“You want to borrow mine? They’re dry at least.”

Jesse grins. “You asking me to get into your pants, Gabe?”

Reyes gives him an exasperated sigh as Jesse snickers. “Offer redacted. Sleep in the nude for all I care.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jesse teases. 

Reyes rolls his eyes, but Jesse catches the smile on his lips. 

They don’t have much for entertainment. A deck of cards from one of the drawers keeps them busy for a couple hours, and they burn through the books fast. Neither of them have a phone charger on them, and even if they did, it’s not as though they had any games or movies downloaded on them. Jesse’s just glad he remembered to get an extra pack of smokes before they left Montreal, or he might’ve actually lost his mind from boredom.

Mostly they talk. Reyes shares stories of his early days in the marines and the SEP, while Jesse updates him on the most recent gossip he’d heard from around the Blackwatch water cooler. Reyes is appropriately scandalized when he hears about Mitchell cheating on his girlfriend with one of the new Overwatch scouts. 

“Remind me to assign him one of the crappy missions when we get back,” He says, scowling. 

“Will do,” Jesse grins, sipping tea from a chipped mug. He’d managed to break off a few lumps of sugar in the end, and the sweetness is a nice change after all the vegetable soup.

By the evening of the fifth day, Jesse finally gives the cassette tapes a try. His head doesn’t hurt as much any more, and he thinks he can handle some music.

“Please try to play something we’ll both enjoy,” Reyes says from the table, eyes focused on the game of solitaire he’d laid out for himself. 

“Yes, your highness,” Jesse teases, pulling out a few tapes to examine them. “Truth be told, I don’t really know how these work. Do you?”

Reyes nods. “My dad liked to collect vintage music stuff. Bring it here and I can show you how it works... _if_ you pick something with minimal yodeling.”

“Deal.” Jesse takes another look and pulls out a cassette featuring a cover with a black and white silhouette of a man in a field. The name on the side sounds somewhat familiar, and when he hands it over to Gabriel, he hums in surprise. 

“Yeah, I can live with that. Okay, so first you need to hit the eject button here…”

A few minutes later, Neil Young’s voice echoes around the kitchen, the sound of his guitar a welcome distraction from the howling wind and rumble of the generator. 

Jesse grins wide, looking to Gabriel with excitement and then back to the stereo. With careful hands, he picks it up and takes it over to the living room area, setting it down beside the couch. Content for the moment, he drops down onto the cushions and allows himself to lean back and relax.

A few minutes later, he feels a weight dip down beside him. When he cracks his eye open, he sees Reyes mirroring his position, eyes closed and leaning back. 

Jesse smiles. Without saying anything, he slowly shifts over and rests his head on Gabriel’s shoulder. 

They stay that way for a long while, just the two of them sitting in the warmth of the fire while the soft music plays around them, pressed thigh to thigh and content in each other’s presence. 

Jesse dozes off after awhile. When he opens his eye again the fire is low, casting the cabin into a soft, warm glow. He peers up at Gabriel and finds the man staring at him again. Neither of them say a word. This close, Jesse can see the silver coming through Gabriel’s dark beard and moustache, can see how the faded pink of his old facial scars have healed and merged with the deep tan of his skin. He trails the crows feet and lines under his eyes, evidence of long, sleepless nights in his difficult line of work. 

While Jesse looks over all these things, he can feel Gabriel’s eyes over his own face, taking in all of Jesse’s features as well. 

Smiling, Jesse looks back at the fire. He should really add another log to it. 

Instead his hand reaches out and slowly moves on top of Gabriel’s. He bites his lip when Gabriel does nothing for a moment. Then lets out a shaky breath of relief when he feels Gabriel turn his hand over, touching palm to palm. His calloused thumb rubs gentle circles over Jesse’s knuckle.

Jesse really needs to build the fire back up. All he has to do is stand up, and go put another log on it. That’s all. 

He turns his head up to look at Gabriel again. The commander is still staring at him, and in that moment, their eyes meet and lock together. Jesse swallows and wets his lips. 

Gabriel leans down as just as Jesse tilts his head up and the world beyond them ceases to exist. 

Gabriel’s lips are soft, and the feel of his facial hair against Jesse’s skin sends tingles up his spine. They break apart for a moment to catch their breath. Then Gabriel’s hand is on Jesse’s cheek and they’re kissing again. 

Jesse’s heart feels like it’s about to burst from his chest, it’s beating so hard. His fingers dig into the fabric of Gabriel’s hoodie, and he’s afraid that if he lets go of him, this will all turn out to be some kind of wonderful, surreal dream. 

Gabriel’s teeth run over his bottom lip and Jesse can’t help the moan that slips out of him. He shivers and pulls Gabriel closer. Then he’s being pushed onto his back as Gabriel moves on top of him, kissing and nipping at his lips, strong hands gently fondling at his nipples over the thin fabric of Jesse’s shirt. 

Jesse reaches up and slips his hands under Gabriel’s hoodie, trailing fingers up his wide back to feel the warmth of his skin. He gasps for breath when their lips part again, only to let out a loud moan as Gabriel decides to attack his neck next, kissing at all the little places on his skin that Jesse had no idea were so sensitive. 

Gabriel runs his teeth over a particularly weak spot and gives a gentle bite when Jesse squirms beneath him. The jolt of pleasure catches him by surprise and his fingers dig into Gabriel’s back harder than he means them to. Gabriel doesn’t seem to mind though, letting out a low moan against Jesse’s skin. He shudders and starts kissing Jesse’s neck more aggressively. 

There’s going to be marks, but Jesse doesn’t care. Not when Gabriel’s warm hands are slipping under his shirt, caressing his skin and teasing Jesse’s nipples between his fingers. 

Jesse’s hard now, and by the feel of the prodding weight against his thigh, so is Gabriel. The sound of their wet kisses and soft moans of pleasure echo around them in the small cabin. Reyes kisses him again, tongue sliding wetly against Jesse’ own as he moves his hands to palm at Gabriel’s chest. Suddenly Gabriel pulls away with a hiss. Jesse remembers the stitches on his chest and immediately feels like the world’s biggest idiot. 

“F-fuck, sorry, sorry,” He whispers between gasps of breath. 

Gabriel lets out a soft laugh in between deep breaths of his own. “It’s okay. Sorry, didn’t mean to break the mood.” He pulls away and pushes damp curls out of his face. “How’s your eye?”

Jesse lets out an amused huff. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He wets his lips and grins up at him. They’re both still hard, and Jesse’s shirt is bunched up past his chest. “Should um. Should we…” he means to say _stop_ , but can’t quite bring himself to. 

Slowly, Reyes rises to his feet. Jesse swallows. Smiles up at him when Gabriel extends his hand to him, and takes it. 

Holds tight as he stands up and follows Gabriel into the bedroom.

As soon as they’re past the threshold, Gabriel’s lips are on his again. He puts a hand on the centre of Jesse’s chest and gently pushes him further into the room. Jesse lets him guide him, clinging to Gabriel’s arms and gasping into his mouth when the back of his legs hit the bed. 

Gabriel kisses him again as he pushes him down onto the mattress, and only pulls away when he starts undoing Jesse’s boots. Taking the hint, Jesse reaches down to undo his belt and jeans. He just manages to get them down past his ankles when Gabriel leans down and starts trailing soft kisses up Jesse’s belly while slowly pushing his shirt up.

Jesse buries his fingers in Gabriel’s dark curls, arching up against him as his chest is suddenly exposed to the cool air. He stifles a whimper when his nipple is suddenly enveloped by the warm, wet heat of Gabriel’s mouth. 

“F-fuck, Gabe…” His breath hitches and he whines when he feels the barest brush of teeth over the sensitive little nub. A hand moves up to caress Jesse’s cheek, and he turns his face toward it, pressing a kiss to Gabriel’s palm before it slides down his neck and collar to tease at his other nipple. Crying out, Jesse digs his fingers into Gabriel’s hair and pulls at it, rocking his hips against him more insistently when he hears Gabriel’s low growl in response.

Gabriel starts to press more kisses downward. Jesse wants to climb him, wants to grab him and kiss the fucking hell out of him, but he’s also still afraid of opening up his stitches. Maybe if they switch places-

He loses his train of thought and nearly chokes on his own spit as Gabriel starts to mouth at him through his underwear. 

“G-Gabe!” Jesse stammers, trying to keep his eye open through the intense pleasure throbbing between his legs. “Gabe, please…” He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, only that he wants more of it. 

His briefs are soaked with precum and Gabriel’s saliva. He hears another set of clothes hit the floor, and tries to look up, only to let out a wail as Gabriel pulls the last piece of fabric out of the way and puts his mouth over Jesse’s cock. 

The obscene things Gabriel does to him with his tongue make Jesse’s toes curl. He can feel his eyes water from the sheer pleasure of it all, and can’t help himself when his hips keep trying to move up further into Gabriel’s mouth. Gabriel slides his underwear off the rest of the way and massages his strong hands over Jesse’s inner thighs, only to grip them tight and spread them apart a moment later, taking Jesse down until he can feel his cock hit the back of Gabriel’s throat. 

“Fuck!” Jesse sobs, about to come at any second. He’s close, he’s so close, and then Gabriel pulls his mouth away. Jesse cries out and squirms at the loss, especially when Gabriel takes his hands off him as well. When Jesse opens his eyes, he sees him rooting through the bedside table drawer, searching in the dim light of the room. Finally he pulls something out and slams the drawer shut. Jesse hears a cap open, and silently thanks whoever was in the cabin last for leaving some form of lube for them.

He gasps when he feels Gabriel’s hands on his legs again, spreading them wide. His grip is warm and tight over Jesse’s thigh, but it’s nothing compared to the thick finger that slides into him with slow, tantalizing motions. Jesse pushes back on it, eager to have something inside him, but Gabriel keeps him just on the edge of where he wants it. 

“Please, Gabe, come on,” Jesse whines, breath hitching when he feels another finger push inside. Gabriel starts to kiss and nip at his thigh and Jesse feels his cock twitch. Another one enters him and he’s almost at his limit. 

“Gabe, please-please fuck me, please, I’ll be good, I’ll-”

The fingers inside him slip out and Jesse howls as finally, _finally,_ Gabriel pushes what feels like the biggest cock Jesse’s ever taken, deep inside of him. 

It only takes a couple seconds for Gabriel to find a good rhythm. Jesse forces himself to open his eye and look up as Gabriel holds one of his legs up and fucks into him, one knee on the bed, and one foot on the ground. Sweat drips from his curls, and the low groaning noises escaping his mouth are heaven to Jesse’s ears. 

Gabriel, the son of a bitch, keeps Jesse on the razor’s edge for what feels like hours. Every time he thinks he’s about to come, Gabriel pulls away just enough to keep him wanting. By the third time, Jesse is a crying, sobbing, trembling mess. He can barely form a coherent sentence, moans spilling from his lips with every breath. 

Just when he thinks he can’t possibly take it anymore, Gabriel leans down and nearly bends him in half, kissing him as he slams his hips so far into Jesse that he swears he can feel Gabriel’s cock pushing out of his lower stomach. Jesse screams himself hoarse as his orgasm finally hits him like a train, every nerve in his body overflowing with absolute pleasure. Gabriel’s fingers leave bruises on his thighs as he shouts Jesse’s name as he finally comes too, filling Jesse with a warm sensation deep, deep inside.

A moment later, Gabriel collapses on top of him, cock still inside. He grunts in pain when his chest meets Jesse’s. 

“Careful!” Jesse scolds him as he pants for breath. “I swear to God, if you die on me right after sex…”

Gabriel laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. “Sorry, sorry.”

A dopey smile is on Jesse’s face as he turns his head to Gabriel. “I’ll forgive you.” He swallows, brain still on it’s way down from the intense pleasure high. “So uh... That was pretty nice…pretty fun...” 

“Was it now?” Gabriel responds, wearing a grin to match him. 

“Yeah…” Jesse licks his lips, taking in the delicious sight of a naked Gabriel Reyes beside him. “Why the fuck have we been playing cards all this time? This is way better.”

Gabriel laughs again and kisses the dumb smile right off Jesse’s face. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The next three days are… well, _fun_ is putting it mildly. They’re the best three days of Jesse’s life, considering he’s unable to walk straight for most of them. 

After that first time, it’s as though some barrier has been broken and now neither of them can keep their hands off each other. One minute Jesse’s tending to the fire, the next minute he’s riding Gabriel’s dick in the middle of the floor. The both of them have more bruises and lovebites than a pair of horny teenagers.

At night, they curl up together in the bed, naked and twisted up in each other’s arms, careful of one another’s injuries as they make love, only to repeat the evening’s events when they wake up in the morning. 

Reyes still thinks they can save Jesse’s eye. Jesse lets him hold onto the idea without arguing, but mentally reminds himself to ask Ana about where she got her cybernetics when they’re back home. In the meantime, neither of them talk about what they’re going to do about...whatever it is this new thing between them is. Instead they just roll with it and enjoy each other's company while they can.

Jesse just hopes Reyes doesn’t pretend it never happened. He can take a lot of things, but he’s not sure if he could take that. 

On the eighth day, at last they get a call on the comms. The blizzard is moving on. They should have their evac early the next morning. Just in time too, the food is running dangerously low, along with the firewood. The generator had run out of fuel on the seventh day, and the water has started to come out of the tap a lot slower too. 

Still, Jesse is almost sad to leave. By the way Gabriel looks at him, he probably feels the same way.

Their last night in the safehouse, they fuck long and slow, taking their time with each other. They kiss and caress every inch of each other’s skin, tongues sliding hot and wet against one another while Jesse opens himself up and lets Gabriel in. Afterward, when they’re both spent and entangled in each other’s limbs, they kiss each other sleepily over and over, trying to delay the inevitable. Neither of them really ready for it all to end. 

Sleep finds them eventually anyway.

  
  


\--

  
  


The following morning, Jesse wakes to the sound of absolute silence. The wind has finally stopped it’s tantrum, and the sun is actually shining down through the windows, warming Jesse’s face with it’s gentle rays.

He can hear Gabriel outside the bedroom, speaking into the comm station and confirming their coordinates. When Jesse limps out to meet him, Gabriel’s back is to him. Smirking, Jesse tiptoes behind him and gently leans down to place a kiss on the back of his neck. As soon as he does, Gabriel stutters and stumbles over his words. Awkwardly, he apologizes into the headset and asks the dispatcher on the other end to repeat what they’ve just said. 

Jesse grins impishly as Gabriel turns around and scowls, though his cheeks are bright red during the rest of his conversation. 

In the meantime, Jesse gets dressed and sets to work gathering up what few belongings they have to take back. He pockets a couple cassettes as mementos of their time together, but not much else. Eventually there’s nothing left to do but wait on the couch for the evac crew to find them. 

“Guess this is it then,” Jesse says, staring out around the small cabin. 

Gabriel nods. “Guess so.” 

An awkward silence sits around them and finally Jesse can’t take it anymore. 

“When we get back, am I supposed to pretend like nothing happened here?” he asks a little more bitterly than he means to be.

Reyes turns to him in surprise. “What?”

“Just…” Jesse opens his mouth, trying to find the right words. “Was this just a cabin fever thing? Or was it more? Because I know I’ve been wanting this for as long as I can remember knowing you, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking but I feel like you’ve been wanting me too. Maybe not as long as I’ve wanted you, but long enough for it to matter.” He lets out a shaky sigh. 

“But if you want me to go back and pretend none of this ever happened… I mean, I can try but… but I don’t know if I can be by your side every day knowing that we could have something this good and not act on it. You’re the most important person in my life, and if you don’t want me again after this, I don’t think I can-”

“Jesse.” Gabriel puts his hand on his cheek. When Jesse doesn’t look at him, he gently turns his head so he has no choice but to face him. 

“I’m not pretending this never happened. You’re right. I’ve wanted you for...well. For a long time.” He smiles warmly. “You’re my most important person too.”

Jesse’s good eye feels hot and wet. He squeezes it shut as Gabriel leans forward and their lips meet once again. The kiss is long and sweet and Gabriel’s hand on his face feels like the most comforting thing in the world. When they part, Gabriel keeps it there as he gently rests his forehead against Jesse’s.

“We’re a team, you and I. And I’m not going anywhere without you by my side.”

Jesse bites his lip and smiles. “That a fact?”

“It’s a promise. Cross my heart, hope to die and all that.”

Jesse wipes his eye and chuckles. “Okay.” He sniffles and raises his hand to rest over Gabe’s. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

They kiss one last time, and when the sound of the helicarrier finally echoes over the plains of frozen white, they leave the cabin with their hands clasped tightly together.

  
  



	12. Gabriel III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who knows what love is will understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, sorry! Still, it's a necessary one. This is also the last chapter before another timeskip, and then we'll be kicking off the third and final act of this story. Thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos and comments (especially comments, they mean the world to me) and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This story also has fan-art now! Check out this awesome piece by by Nyang here: https://bit.ly/2Vvbi4Z
> 
> TW for this chapter include: mentions of (eye) surgery, surgical prep

For the first time in a very long time, Gabriel Reyes is happy with his life. 

Being with Jesse is unlike anything he’d ever imagined. He’d been so afraid of ruining what they’d had before the safehouse incident, but now that they’ve taken the plunge, he regrets nothing. He hadn’t known a relationship could be as easy as it is with Jesse.

Their back and forth banter and jokes don’t disappear. If anything, now they just laugh harder. Without saying anything, Jesse will reach out and hold his hand, or kiss Gabriel’s lips and neck for no reason other than that he can. Not to mention the sex is incredible. Jesse keeps up with him almost every time despite the lack of SEP drugs running in his blood.

They’re careful to keep it professional on the base. They don’t let this newfound thing come between them and their objectives, but when the workday is over and it’s time to come back to their room and unwind, Gabriel’s never been more at peace than he is taking off his armor at Jesse’s side. 

Gabriel’s made a couple feeble attempts at relationships in the past, but none of his partners had ever understood why he could never devote his time to them over his job. They didn’t get it. Sure, at the start they all said they didn’t mind, that being with Gabe was worth it enough, but it only ever took a month or two before they changed their minds and decided that no, it was not really enough to be the mistress while he was married to Blackwatch.

Jesse is different though, Jesse understands completely how important Gabriel’s work is. Hell, Jesse is the one who manages the damn workload and keeps it from crushing him. He knows when Gabriel needs him beside him, and he knows when he needs to step back and help from the sidelines. He’s always been that way, and Gabriel can’t remember how he got through life without him anymore. It’s all been categorized as _Before Jesse_ and _After Jesse_. _With Jesse_ is the new milestone, and he wants it to last for the rest of his life.

It’s bliss, even when he has to deal with Jack and Ana’s disapproving gazes. Despite letting Gabriel _forget_ to fill out the necessary paperwork that would no doubt force Jesse to transfer units, Jack thinks Jesse is going to ruin Gabe’s reputation. Ana on the other hand, thinks Gabriel is too old for Jesse.

Gabriel ignores them both. It’s not like they have any excuse to lecture him on his love life, not when Jack’s boyfriend hasn’t spoken to him in three weeks, and Ana’s been avoiding Sam’s calls for years.

They’re jealous, is all. They can’t see how happy him and Jesse are when they’re together. They don’t see how Jesse looks at him when they’re alone together, tangled in each other’s arms beneath the bed sheets. They don’t know how much Gabriel misses him when he’s gone, even just for a few hours. They have no idea how the sound of Jesse’s voice calling his name makes Gabriel’s heart feel as though it’s about to burst out of his chest.

They couldn’t even begin to understand how utterly and completely head over heels in love Gabriel Reyes is. No one could. They have no idea the lengths he’d go to for Jesse McCree.

Which is why Gabriel doesn’t tell either of them why he’s flown halfway around the world to be standing in a cramped little lab deep in a Dublin basement. 

Under a cold, flickering light he stands in front of a desk and stares down at several photos of Jesse. They’d all been taken in the Overwatch med bay upon their return mission from Ontario. Among the photos are close ups of Jesse’s damaged eye, x-rays of his skull, and in depth optical reports that all say the same thing - after whatever had happened to him, Jesse can no longer see through his right eye. 

Gabriel was crushed by the news. Jesse had laughed it off. 

_“To save your life all I had to give was an eye? Fucking steal of a deal if you ask me!”_ he’d joked after hearing the news, eyepatch covering his injury.

He’d stopped laughing when he realized his depth perception had become so skewed that he couldn’t aim his gun properly anymore. Despite Jesse’s attempts to train his skills back up, he suffered severe headaches if he tried to focus for too long.

Needless to say, Gabriel hadn’t let him go on any major missions since they got back.

“You say this happened three months ago?” Dr. O’Deorain asks from the other side of the desk, flipping through the pages of Jesse’s last medical report. 

Gabriel nods. “No one is quite sure what happened, not even Agent McCree. We haven’t been able to find any video footage of the incident either.”

“Fascinating,” the Doctor murmurs while she scrutinizes the latest scans of Jesse’s eye. “This is quite a rare case indeed. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“They want to test him for a replacement next week. If all goes well, they’ll remove the eye and replace it with a newly augmented one.”

“Cybernetics?” Dr. O’Deorain looks as though she’d tasted something foul. “How primitive.”

“I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use,” Gabriel replies. “Apparently they can fit him with an eye that can enhance his vision six times better than an organic eye.”

An unsettling smile curls at O’Deorain’s lips. “Impressive. Why come to me then, Mr. Reyes?”

Gabriel frowns at the patronizing tone in her voice. “I only want to be thorough with our options. I know others with Cybernetic eyes, and while it’s true that they’re capable of incredible things, they also come with a price.” His stomach churns as he remembers every gory detail from Ana’s recovery all those years ago.

“Intense migraines predominantly, but upkeep is also messy and difficult. I’m told the aftermath of the procedure is also incredibly painful.”

“Oh, of that you can be certain,” O’Deorain nods. “All the little nerves that need to be connected, not to mention the initial resistance of introducing a permanent foreign object into the body… I imagine your Mr. McCree’s head will be in excruciating pain for a few months at least.” She hums and examines the reports again. “Though with your line of work I’m sure your little soldiers have tough skin. What’s a few months of sick leave?”

“It’s not just the pain I’m concerned about. Our work also requires discretion,” Gabriel says. “The enemies we’ve been facing lately… there’s no low they won’t stoop to. Their intel and resources are inexplicably advanced. In a worst case scenario, I don’t necessarily trust that someone couldn’t somehow manage to tamper with our cybernetics. Even an eye.”

“Hmm, that would be quite the inconvenience wouldn’t it? Spyware is so easy to plant nowadays…” O’Deorain murmurs, setting the reports back down on the desk. “Still, I’m not quite sure why it is you’ve come to me. As your dearOverwatch doctorsays here,” O’Deorain’s smirk turns downward into a scowl “Mr. McCree’s eye is useless now. What exactly do you think I can do to change that?”

Under her scrutinizing gaze, Gabriel presents her with another file, this time a thick stack of papers bound together at the spine. 

“This is yours, I believe. It’s a thesis paper concerning the possibility of creating custom genetic programs to alter the human body, is it not?” He drops it on the surface of her desk with a loud _thump._

O’Deorain eyes the papers and purses her thin lips. “It is.”

He folds his arms. “It’s quite a read. Very thorough. Almost as though you’ve actually done tests already.”

The fingernails on her right hand slowly clack against the desk. She says nothing, sharp stare boring into his skull.

“You’ve written it with obvious excitement. Mainly about the potential to overcome disease, disorders, and to maximize the human potential. But most people didn’t see it that way, did they?” He asks.

O’Deorain narrows her eyes. “I believe it was your own organization that was the most critical. Now what was it she said… ah yes. ‘ _A monstrous notion with absolutely no merit, written by a cruel and horrible woman who ought to be banned from the medical field.’_ Those are Overwatch’s beloved Doctor Angela Ziegler’s words about me and my research if I’m not mistaken.” 

She rises from behind the desk, motioning to the cramped little room around them. “As you can see, the aftermath of her glowing review has taken somewhat of a toll.” The coy, playful attitude from earlier is long gone from her voice. “I used to be the most prominent genetic scientist this side of the globe. Now I’ve been blacklisted to the point that I can’t even use my own name to order coffee.” She crosses her arms and sneers at him. “Why would I even consider trying to help Overwatch after what they’ve done to me and my career?”

“I’m not Overwatch,” Gabe says. “I’m a different division. And we run by different rules.”

O’Deorain rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Spare me the intricacies of your self-importance. Why don’t you just get your precious Dr. Ziegler to-”

“I can offer you a lab. A new one, much larger and well supplied.”

She pauses. “Can you now?”

Gabriel nods. “Top secret, of course. You wouldn’t be able to publish any more papers concerning your work, but so long as no one knows about our arrangement, you could continue your work under higher quality conditions.”

There’s a glint in her eyes. Gabriel recognizes it as desire.

“I imagine I’d need to relocate.”

“You would, yes.”

“Hmm. And funding?”

“Fix Agent McCree’s eye, along with any other major injuries he may potentially incur in the future, and you can have whatever you need, no questions asked.” 

O’Deorain raises a long-nailed hand to her chin, contemplating Gabriel’s words. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give me this in writing, would you?”

“That all depends on if you’re able to help him or not. Can you do it?”

Her lips curl back into the smirk she’d been wearing when he first came in. Nothing about it gives Gabriel a good feeling, but he’s learned to ignore that part of his conscience throughout the years in Blackwatch.

“I’ll send a list of what I’ll require tonight. Let me know when everything is ready and we can proceed with the surgery immediately.” She offers her hand out to him. Despite the nagging feeling in the back of his brain, Gabriel accepts it with his own. Her grip is cold and tight. 

“Good working with you, Commander Reyes,” she says with a grin.

He nods. “I’ll see you soon, Dr. O’Deorain.”

“Oh please,” she says as he turns away toward the exit. “Call me Moira.”

  
  


\--

  
  


“You’re sure about this?” Jesse asks as they ride the elevator down to the underground levels. “I know you’ve been worried and feeling guilty about me, but this isn’t a big deal. I can just get the fake eye, it’s fine.”

“I’m sure.” Gabriel reaches out and squeezes Jesse’s hand. “It’s up to you now. If you really don’t want this, you don’t have to do it.”

Jesse gives him a soft smile and leans in to bump his shoulder against Gabriel’s. “Well...you checked this Doctor out, right?”

Gabriel nods. “She knows what she’s doing. Like I said though, if you wanna do the cybernetics instead, that’s fine. We can still cancel this. I just wanted to make sure you had the option.”

“Well...guess I have to go under the knife no matter what if I wanna be able to shoot how I used to, right?” Jesse looks nervous, despite the smile on his lips. “Fuck it then. I trust you.”

Gabriel squeezes his hand. “I’d never do anything to hurt you. She promised she’d be careful.”

“Hell, sounds good to me. Let’s do this then.” Jesse turns and leans over to steal a kiss. Gabriel raises a hand to run through Jesse’s hair, and the little peck on the lips becomes something much deeper. By the time the elevator rings to let them know they’ve arrived, Jesse’s lips are wet and his face is flushed red. 

“Pretty sure that’s not what you’re supposed to do before a surgery,” he jokes, licking his lips. 

Gabriel shrugs and grins. Reluctantly, he lets go of Jesse’s hand as they walk down the hall to the newly renovated surgical ward.

Moira is waiting for them in the last room on the left. There’s a small viewing area with a large window looking out into the larger operating room beyond, where a gurney waits beside a tray of cold, sharp surgical tools. 

Gabriel hears Jesse’s breath hitch slightly, and puts his hand on his shoulder to try and calm him. Moira greets them both, dressed in dark purple medical scrubs. 

“Ah Mr. McCree. At last we meet. What a pleasure. Commander Reyes had told me so much about you.” She offers her hand and smiles in that unsettling manner of hers. “Dr. Moira O’Deorain.”

Jesse takes her hand and smiles back, though Gabriel sees the scrutiny through it instantly. “Nice to meet you, Doc. Try to be gentle with me today, would ya?”

Moira chuckles. “Of course, not to worry. You’ll be better than new before you know it.”

“That so?” Jesse’s smile slowly fades. “Give it to me straight Doc, will I be able to play the guitar after this?”

Moira blinks. “I don’t see why not?”

“Oh good, because I don’t know how to play at all now.”

Gabriel groans. He can’t help it. Jesse snickers beside him, while Moira hums. 

“Ah. Jokes. Very clever.” Despite the thin smile on her narrow face, Gabriel can tell that Jesse’s humour is not exactly her style. “Well, all joking aside, If you’ll go through this door and get changed into the surgical gown behind the curtain…”

Jesse turns to follow her instructions, shooting a wink at Gabriel on his way to the door. 

Gabriel watches him go until he disappears from his sight. He turns to Moira. 

“You’re certain you know what you’re doing?”

She smiles as she pulls a surgical cap over her hair, tucking in the loose, orange strands. “Of course. Your agent is safe with me. I’m a professional, after all.”

She grins and steps past him into the operating room. Gabriel steps aside and looks through the window. He sees her motion to a dressed-down Jesse to lie down on the gurney.

Jesse does as she says while Moira pulls on her gloves and starts to fiddle with what Gabriel recognizes as the anesthesia machine. He swallows nervously. 

_This is the right decision. This is what’s best for Jesse_. 

He repeats the thought as he meets Jesse’s gaze through the glass. Jesse looks like a scared rabbit under the cold, bright lights, but when he looks at Gabriel, he can see the fear fade a little. Gabriel smiles reassuringly at him, despite his own nervousness.

Jesse smiles back and Gabriel’s heart skips a beat. 

Moira blocks his view as she descends upon Jesse with the anaesthetic facemask. When Gabriel can see him again, his eyes are closed and he’s out cold. With his hair fanned out around him on the gurney and his face relaxed from the drugs, he looks more vulnerable than ever.

_This is the right decision_ , Gabriel repeats in his head over and over again.

Moira reaches for one of her tools and begins.

  
  


\--

  
  


The surgery takes a little over an hour. Gabriel is glued to the window the entire time. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what Moira is doing, he feels better keeping a close eye on her. 

Once everything is said and done, she wheels Jesse into a room across the hall, and permits Gabriel to sit at his bedside until he wakes up.

Jesse’s face is covered in bandages again, but Moira says they can be removed the following night, and that the swelling will go down shortly after. Jesse should be able to open his eye in a few days, after which he’ll just need to do some minor aftercare work. 

At last, the pit in Gabriel’s stomach finally goes away as Jesse makes a full recovery. It’s exactly as Moira says, there’s some swelling and throbbing, but ultimately nothing to worry about.

Dr. Ziegler gives him the most trouble by trying to interrogate him about the sudden change in Jesse’s plans. Gabriel had managed to give a decent cover story, but he didn’t like the critical glare she’d given him in response to his answers. Still, once she’d seen Jesse walking around and in good spirits, she’d eased up a little.

Jesse does as he’s told when it comes to Moira’s aftercare instructions, and by the following week, is finally able to throw away his eyepatch for good. When he goes to the firing range immediately afterward, he hits the bullseye on every target. 

Gabriel cheers and congratulates him as they both laugh and embrace. There’s no one else in the firing range, so Jesse pulls him close and kisses him until they’re both red in their cheeks and short of breath. 

When at last they pull away, Gabriel stares down into Jesse’s warm brown eyes, relieved that everything really has turned out ok in the end. 

He pauses and stares a little longer than necessary at Jesse’s right eye. 

“Better than new, right?” Jesse teases, winking at him.

Gabriel snaps out of it and smiles. “Heh. Right.”

“Come on. Let’s go get some lunch and then what’s say you and I head up to your room after? Pretty sure your schedule is clear until tomorrow morning. We could have some fun, just the two of us,” Jesse murmurs wickedly, wetting his lips. 

“Can’t resist that invitation, now can I?” Gabriel answers with a grin of his own. 

Jesse laughs and turns away, heading to the door. Behind him, Gabriel stands still for a moment while the familiar churning feeling in his gut starts to make itself known again.

If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn he’d seen a weird shape reflected in Jesse’s eye. Almost like a skull. 

Jesse calls out to him from the hallway. Gabriel shakes his head and follows after him.

He must be seeing things.

  
  


*

  
  


Far, far below the main floors of Blackwatch HQ, deep into the underground of it’s foundations, Moira O’Deorain types at her brand new workstation, finishing up a few requests for some new equipment. 

As promised, there’s no one else in the entire wing. She’s completely alone and unbothered, just how she likes it. Her bank account is healthy for the first time in years thanks to Jesse McCree’s successful surgery, and though it pained her to sign a false name, it had given her great joy to think of Dr. Ziegler’s face when she read the… _edited_ medical report of the patient Moira had poached from her. 

McCree’s real report sits on her desk, ready to be filed away whenever she feels like it. Beside it is another much larger stack of papers she’d managed to get her hands on without anyone noticing, despite the red _CLASSIFIED_ stamp pressed over the cover. 

She pauses from her typing to take a sip of tea from her favourite mug and glances over at the file next to her. Smiling, she sets the mug back down and goes back to work. 

Beneath the faded red ink, the cover has only three sentences:

  
  


_SOLDIER ENHANCEMENT PROGRAM_

_Subject Identification #: 024_

_Name: Gabriel Reyes_

  
  



End file.
